


Alpha For Sale

by distantstarlight



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Chronic Illness, Complicated Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Minor Character Death, Omega Sherlock, Omegaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 94,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John sells himself to the Holmes family to service Sherlock and thus provide a new generation of Holmes'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Matchmakers

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [专供商品](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3574507) by [BerylAnn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerylAnn/pseuds/BerylAnn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has ended up solely in my hands though it did not begin that way. The initial concept and first seven chapters were written by Gwerinos as well as others. I was asked to join the story at chapter 7 and I co-wrote the rest of the fic with Gwerinos who decided at an undeclared point in time to remove their name as co-author. I am not comfortable taking sole credit for this work though I greatly enjoyed what I put into it. Please enjoy. I've gone through and corrected as many mistakes as I could so whatever is left is completely my fault.

Now available in Chinese [here](http://www.movietvslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=131716&highlight=%D7%A8%B9%A9%C9%CC%C6%B7) and [here](http://www.doctective.com/thread-4829-1-1.html) thanks to [ad50302742](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ad50302742/pseuds/ad50302742). Huge thanks :D

* * *

 

 

 

 

"John...John Watson," Stamford called as he sat on the park bench.

John stopped. He really wasn't in the mood to see people. He had just come from getting the final report on his injury. He'd been pensioned out. He would never qualify for the military again. His pay as an army doctor was small but at least he had a roof over his head, most of the time, and three square meals a day, and every other convenience that the army could provide, conveniences which most people took for granted. Now with only a pension and no other support he might find himself in one of those homes for retired military men which specialized in the order and discipline that fifers got accustomed to. That was _not_ for John Watson. He was still a doctor, though surgery was now out of the question. Like other unemployed doctors he would have to endure interview after interview to try to find the right position.

He wanted to ignore whoever it was calling his name but the man seemed intent on following him until he stopped. It was a beta he discovered as he caught a whiff of the man's scent on the breeze. John stopped and turned to him. A beta he could handle. Within minutes he was sitting on the park bench sipping coffee and chatting about old times.

"You're an alpha, right? Sorry, I'm a beta as you probably know. I can't smell you. I might be able to help. There's an organization I know of called Matchmakers," Stamford told him.

"I'm looking for cheap accommodation, Mike, not a mate. I couldn't afford an mate even if I wanted one right now," John replied.

"It couldn't hurt, John. They match poor alphas of good standing to rich omegas. You would probably only have to take care of their heats and you have a home, and an allowance and your freedom," Stamford explained. "I have an alpha friend who was something of a jock. He was injured and with one too many blows to the head he really wasn't in any shape to find other employment. He had no chance of finding a wife or an omega. He used Matchmakers. A rich family liked his genes. It set him up for life."

*** *** ***

John sat on his bed and looked about his room. There was a small kitchenette at one end of it, a desk and a chair, a set of drawers for his clothes. Provided by the army, this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life unless he could get himself together. He made himself a mug of tea and took an apple to his desk. Pulling the drawer open he pulled out his laptop and stared at the gun beneath it. The thought that ran through his mind right then was what made him decide. He wanted to live. So what if he had to prostitute himself. At least it would only be four times a year. It wouldn't hurt to have the initial interview. He looked them up on line and surprisingly got a phone call from them within a few minutes. He was it seemed a prize. Relatively intact, not too bad looking, professional, etc, etc. Then again John couldn't imagine too many alphas using a service like Matchmakers. They would have to be desperate.

It was later that same day that John got a second call from them. An interview had been set up for him that evening with a client. So far, the service had been very discreet. John hadn't had to front up to any run down or flashy offices as he had imagined. He hadn't had to parade naked in front of the families of potential buyers. In fact he had been made to feel like they were finding a well connected, rich omega _for_ him rather than selling him off to the highest bidder. Of course, it had been made very clear that both parties had to be completely satisfied for the process to work. Omegas didn't normally inherit so John had to satisfy not just the omega but the omega's family or he would lose everything if the omega died. John wanted a pension, not just from the army but from the family as well. It would make living in London possible.

The man sitting behind the desk in the elaborate old fashioned office was an alpha. Not for him then. He looked up but didn't move, indicating an alpha of higher status. John took the seat in front of the desk.

"A delicate topic, don't you think?" Mycroft said. "I have a younger brother." He looked to John to see if he reacted to the fact that the omega in question was male and was apparently satisfied. "Your credentials are impressive."

"Thank you," John replied.

"I am assured by my specialists that your genetics are adequate. Your family is of good standing though a long line of military doctors would hardly have made you a fortune," Mycroft said.

"How did you..?" he stopped when he realized the answer to his own question. Mycroft obviously has access to his military records. Matchmakers had barely asked anything after he had mentioned he was pensioned from the army.

"My brother requires special care. It will be a condition of your 'employment' that any offspring will be of the Holmes family, not Watsons. Though should there be a second alpha male child you may, if you so desire, give him your family name. Your first alpha male child will be the Holmes heir. As yet I have no children," he added in way of explanation. "Do not expect there to be a bonding. My brother abhors sentiment."

"Tell me about his former alpha," John asked.

"Nothing you need to know. As a second son and an omega at that, Mother allowed him to become attached to a female alpha. She is no longer of concern," Mycroft replied.

"Your family needs an heir," John summarized.

"My brother is now the best chance of another generation of Holmes'," Mycroft replied. "Here is your contract. You have one week to look it over. During that time I have arranged for a room for you in my brother's flat. The address is 221B Baker Street. Good evening, Dr Watson." Mycroft resumed whatever it was he was doing on his laptop.

John knew a dismissal when he heard it. He wouldn't get any more information out of this man, so he headed for Baker Street. Perhaps the brother would be more forthcoming with information.


	2. Baker Street

Mrs. Hudson opened the door to Dr Watson and smiled. "Welcome, Dr Watson. Sherlock is upstairs. He's in one of his moods. It will be so nice to have an Alpha in the house again. Come along. Your room is at the top of the house. It is fully furnished but I don't provide linen and I don't clean. There is a deli next door for meals," she said as she led him up the stairs.

John could instantly tell that Mrs Hudson was an omega and that the only other person in the house that he could smell was also an omega. The other scents of the house were wafting from the deli and a few chemical smells from the first landing.

Mrs. Hudson showed him his room first and then telling him that his kitchen, bathroom and living room were shared with Sherlock on the first floor. His bedroom was the attic. But it had long ago been insulated and had heating installed. It was quite spacious, though rather old fashioned. The bed frame must have been a century old. Thank god the mattress wasn't. He sat down to test the springs and found the frame had been converted to slats, so there would be no squeaks or dips. Though John was accustomed to sleeping on a cot this would do quite nicely. There was an old fashioned freestanding wardrobe a chest of drawers and a nightstand all from early last century. The style and condition wouldn't make it worthwhile for Mrs Hudson to sell it but it was usable.

"I am sorry about the bare floor. The carpet finally wore out," she told him as she straightened the mat with her foot. She put the key down on the nightstand. "Well, I'll go and let you and Sherlock get aquainted alone. Don't worry about the rent. Mycroft has that all settled." She got out the door but stopped at the top of the stairs. "You treat Sherlock gently, now. He is a special soul."

"Mrs Hudson!" came a cry from the first floor.

"Oh, oh dear, what is it now?" she fussed as she hurried down the stairs.

Mrs Hudson was gone by the time John left the room and headed down to the living room. He let himself in. There was a noise from the kitchen. As John turned towards it he found himself being observed by a rather tall, thin man with a mop of dark curls. There was one errant curl that fell down the centre of his forehead.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" He asked after a good looking over. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was sizing John up.

"Pardon?" John asked.


	3. We can't giggle, it's a crime scene.

Later that night they stood in the hallway of 221B giggling like schoolgirls as they caught their breath from running. They caught each other's eyes for a moment and then their shoulders met. Their arms hanging down between them, their fingers met. At that moment John decided that he liked Sherlock regardless of it being a working relationship or that Sherlock was an omega. He just liked the man despite the growing list of Sherlock's unacceptable habits, his arrogance and his total lack of social skills. Then Mrs Hudson appeared and Sherlock was running upstairs.

Sherlock glanced over at John who was so being very conspicuous standing by the police car that only Sherlock saw him. John had shot a man to protect him. Sherlock fought with the smile that grew across his lips.

At dinner Sherlock ate too much having not eaten anything since the third 'suicide'. He watched John throughout the dinner. John thought himself badly off but his only problem was financial. He was a white alpha male in an affluent society. You could not get better off than that. "So what do you like sexually?" Sherlock suddenly asked, making John nearly choke on his coffee.

"What..?"

"I am aware that my brother sent you as a possible replacement for my last alpha. As an alpha himself, he seems to think that I cannot do _without_ an alpha. You have already proved that you will make a good assistant to my work. If we can't get along domestically then we can adopt the arrangement I had with my last alpha. She had her own flat."

"Oh, right...um...normal, I guess," John replied.

"How tedious," Sherlock muttered.

"Well, what was your last alpha like?" John asked.

"She was a dominatrix. It is debatable whether we actually had sex at all, depending on your definition of sex."

"Wait...what?"

"Do try to keep up, John. I am telling you that I am a virgin."

"Well what do you like? I meant...um..."

"If you cannot satisfy me there is little point in taking you on as my alpha."

"That could go both ways, you know," John said slightly offended at the implication.

"Don't be absurd, John. You're an alpha. You will be satisfied by my pheromones alone."

John's jaw dropped. He had never met an omega like him. He just stared at Sherlock speechless.


	4. Week's End

John took a deep breath. It had been a week. He'd found a job part time at a clinic. He had proved himself a very bad date, been shot at, knocked unconscious, kidnapped, had learned many of London's streets intimately and barely had any sleep. He stopped counting at the 5th dead body. Sherlock had insulted him, yelled at him, nearly gotten him killed and used him to experiment on, which as it turns out is better than anyone else of Sherlock's acquaintance. John didn't understand it himself but not only did he get along better with Sherlock than anyone else but he actually _liked_ him. He believed Sherlock liked him as well because although Sherlock proved incapable of saying so, though there was an occasional 'thank you', Sherlock had not dismissed him like he did so many other people.

Now he sat inside Mycroft's office or at least an office that Mycroft used and waited to tell the man that he wanted to change the contract. "Sherlock isn't any ordinary man or omega," John told him.

" _Aspergic_ , is the word the doctor's use. _Sociopathic_ is another," Mycroft admitted. John was convinced that Mycroft also liked him or at least approved of what his association with Sherlock was doing for his brother. "We despaired of him every finding an Alpha and then Miss Adler appeared on the scene. Their relationship was detrimental to Sherlock."

"How did you get rid of her?" John asked. Mycroft gave him a look that said he didn't want to answer that. "Just curious in case you ever want to get rid of me."

"I hardly think you are the type to commit treason," Mycroft replied. John's eyebrows rose. "I assure you she will not be showing up any time soon. He chances of getting back into this country are slim. So what are the changes you want to make to your contract?" John handed him a slip of paper. "Hmmm, I see. Yes, I do believe we can accommodate you. You understand how important Sherlock is." John's mind started running overtime.

"There is a lot more to this than you are telling me."

"Of course," Mycroft replied but didn't elaborate.

"I am going to keep this copy of the contract from future reference," John told him as he got to his feet and lifted the contract off the small side table next to Mycroft. I'm sure you have copies."

"Of course. I shall call you when the new contract is ready," Mycroft said.

John went straight to Bart's. He smiled at Molly as he entered the lab. "Can I use some equipment here?"

"Of course, Dr Watson."

"John, please." He took the contract out of his pocket and clipped off a corner.


	5. Chapter 5

John easily ran his own DNA tests, or at least prepared them for the hospital lab. He had the bill sent to Mycroft. There would probably be hell to pay if it turned out he was correct but something was just not right about the situation. Since _never_ did an Alpha brother care so much about heirs when he could easily go to one of the Omega houses and get any omega pregnant for the price of supporting the Omega for for 9 months. It was hardly an out of the question solution for people as rich as the Holmes'. Sure they weren't all _that_ rich but they were more than comfortable. John knew. He had looked them up. It had taken him a week but he had found out quite a lot about them.

Mrs Hudson was Sherlock's old nanny. Mycroft was 15 years older than Sherlock who had been born while Mycroft was away at school. The Holmes family estate was split up and sold off in the early days of the 20th century when many rural estates failed. But they still had a substantial amount of land and money. Mycroft's and Sherlock's parents now lived in a modest family home in a small town. A retired couple, they went abroad once a year for a week and spent 2 or 3 days in London to visit their sons twice a year or whenever there was an event that they wished to attend. Mycroft lived in a small flat in London and had exceedingly regular habits. The family tended towards traditional ways, which meant that Mycroft being a civil servant was unusual, especially as Mycroft was an Alpha. It was traditionally the place of a second son. And Mr William Scott Holmes was in the best of health at only 68 years old.

John had felt a tinge of guilt at this investigation. He felt like a stranger imposing on the personal lives of these people but if he was to tie his future and that of his children to them then he had the right to know what was going on and he knew when information was being held back from him.

Sherlock was waiting for him in the sitting room of 221B. He was facing the window looking out onto the street or gave that impression. John was learning to read the man. Most people wouldn't give Sherlock the time of day. What did it matter to them? He was the Omega son of a rich family. He would be cared for his whole life. He had an allowance from the family trust. He didn't need to live in London or have a profession. He could live with his family, be a social butterfly, travel, work with charities, or sit around the backyard raising bees. John suddenly felt insignificant. What was he doing thinking that people as influential as the Holmes would want _him_. He had nothing to offer but his genes and looking at Sherlock standing there against the light, he knew that his genes hardly measured up to Sherlock.

Sherlock considered himself an ugly duckling. He was too tall, too lean, too angular, too muscular for a geek and not muscular enough for a jock. He was not social and cared nothing for the opinions of others or so he tried to convince everyone. John saw him differently. John saw a vulnerable man who had been hurt in such a way that he might never heal. He could not imagine what Sherlock's childhood was like. But he had an inkling of what his adult life had been like and one word stood out so much that no one saw it. _Lonely_. John also saw a beautiful man; the natural curl of his hair; the softness of the perfectly shaped lips; long talented fingers; eyes that reflected his every feeling, if only John could learn to read them. Sherlock had talent, refinement, intelligence, and social position. He was way too good for John.

John's doubts were reflected in the changes he wanted made to the contract. If they failed to bond and there were no children John was free of the contract at a time of his own choosing. If by mutual agreement they wished to break their relationship but they had children, the Holmes family were to provide for them for the rest of their lives. In addition, John could take all but the first Alpha male child to live with him, if he so wished. He laid down conditions for contact with this child in these circumstances. Should Sherlock or his family break the contract, John was to get a pension equal to or in excess of his military pension from the family trust. Lastly, John specified that he would be allowed to marry a woman, alpha or omega, and that children he had in this marriage would have his family name but should something happen to him and his wife, the children should be provided for until they finish college.

He wondered if Mycroft would agree to it all, or if it was even Mycroft's decision. And that was one of the reasons for the DNA tests. Why was it Mycroft's decision to make?

"Mycroft will not allow you to get the results of the test, John," Sherlock said without turning. "He doesn't want you to know."


	6. Confrontation

"To know what?"

"I can't tell you that. You are not my Alpha yet, John. Regardless of my rebellious nature, I still have to conform to certain conditions of being an Omega," Sherlock replied.

"Don't you think I deserve to know the truth _before_ I become your Alpha?" John asked.

"The woman nearly destroyed my family, John. She discovered the truth and blackmailed Mycroft," Sherlock said.

"I already suspect, Sherlock. That's why I did the tests."

"They will never be done, John. Mycroft has already ordered his man to dispose of the samples. The paperwork will disappear and the overworked lab tech will not even notice that there is one less test to run," Sherlock countered.

"Do you want me to be your Alpha, Sherlock?" John asked.

"You are in preference to any other," Sherlock replied.

" _Yes, I am madly in love with you_ would have the a better answer but you are a sociopath. Tell me the truth and I will become your Alpha."

"If I tell you the truth, Mycroft will see to it that you never see me again. He will destroy you. He _can_ , John. You will never get a job in a reputable clinic or hospital again," Sherlock informed him.

"And if I am already your Alpha?" John asked.

Sherlock finally turned and frowned at John. "Why would you do that? I thought the truth was a condition of you becoming my Alpha."

John smiled. "Sherlock, I can't imagine any reason why I wouldn't become your Alpha but as your Alpha it is my responsibility to provide for you and our children. I can't do that on an army pension and your family would certainly be within their rights to cut you off from the family trust once I am your Alpha, unless I have that contract."

"Why did you insist on a marriage clause in your contract?" Sherlock asked.

"Because I like women, Sherlock. Until I met you I barely thought of taking a man as my omega."

"Have you never had sex with a man?"

"Of course I have. But I still prefer women."

"Then why me?" Sherlock asked.

"Because you are not _just_ any man."

Sherlock frowned and John could see the cogs moving in his brain. Those eyes revealed Sherlock's inner world. Sherlock glanced towards his bedroom and then away quickly. His head dipped and John was sure he could see a slight blush of his cheeks. He had told John he was a virgin. John wondered how long Irene had been his Alpha, what he had done for his heats before that. Sherlock shouldn't have to be doing this at his age. An Alpha should have been chosen for him when he was a teenager. He should have been married before he started High School. But there was a movement of well meaning people who thought that Omegas should not be married off until they were adults and could choose their own Alpha, about the time that Sherlock would have experienced his first heat. It was still around, of course but they had still not addressed the problems of how to handle an Omega teenager's heats without an Alpha.

"Sherlock, come sit down and tell me about your life. How did you handle your first heat?" John asked.


	7. The Four Letter Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All previous chapters written by Gwerinos.  
> This chapter written by Gwerinos and Narissa.  
> Rewritten by distantstarlight.

Sherlock looked at John expressionlessly as he considered the request for information. Clearly the omega was pondering the ramifications then simply shrugged his elegant shoulders, “I was raised in isolation as was befitting a child of my station. Only my Father was able to tend me during my heats since he was an omega as well. Since I had no alpha to assist I was administered drugs. I don’t recall much.”

John was confused. It sounded so unnecessarily uncomfortable. Why would a family as obviously well-connected as the Holmes family force their young omega child to suffer? What about the alpha Mycroft had made disappear? “What about Irene, why didn’t you bond with her? You were together for years.”

Sherlock considered John for a long minute again, “You are concerned about competition or possibly infidelity. I can tell you with assurance that Irene will not be returning and even if she did somehow manage to make her way back here it would not be for sex. She does not like men in that way. Mycroft refuses to allow me to continue using suppressants so I must find a different alpha to service my needs.”

John had no idea how someone purporting to be an alpha would allow her omega to be placed in a drugged stupor to suffer through his heats untouched. It was monstrous. Suppressants were a blessing but Sherlock had been on them for years! Four times a year of being made to reject his natural urges with chemical intervention. Why? What could he possibly offer Sherlock that could entice someone as wealthy and beautiful as him to actually accept John as his proper alpha? “Why me?”

“I like you.” was all Sherlock said, again accompanied with an elegant shrug.

John wasn’t going to let one offhand comment sum up a life-time commitment, “I’m going to need more than that Sherlock. Your family is asking for my entire life, the life of my child or children, if we even get that far.”

“Dramatics do not suit you John. My pheromones alone would be enough to sate you. To expect more is unnecessary.” John gaped at Sherlock who sincerely seemed to believe what he was saying.

“Yes Sherlock, any omega in heat would be of interest to a functional alpha. However, that’s not reason alone to remain with one another for the rest of our lives!” Sherlock looked at John curiously and clearly still not understanding the issue. "Sherlock you are asking me to commit myself to you...I want to hear that four letter word."

" _Need?_ I need you," Sherlock said totally oblivious to what John meant. John stood up quickly, grabbing the chair for support.

" _Love_ , you thick witted buffoon! I want to hear you say _I love you John Watson!_ " John said exasperated.

"There is no need to be insulting, John. We have known each other for only a week. I have been told that it is insufficient time in which to feel love. However I do feel an attachment to you that I have never felt with anyone before, disregarding any feelings of attraction but if both attraction and attachment equal love, then yes. I love you, John Watson!"

John smiled at the still confused but adamant omega. It wasn’t much but in the short time they had been together John understood that feelings were not Sherlock’s strongest area. He hadn’t actually expected Sherlock to declare himself though it was pleasing to hear. John was more interested in seeing if Sherlock would even entertain the idea of a romantic relationship outside of his heats. Apparently he was. Sherlock was clearly at odds with his natural self. His head ruled all, sorting the entire world into neatly categorized facts. John leaned in and kissed Sherlock, slowly increasing the tender caress until he was eventually sharing a passionate kiss with the very startled and now blushing omega. “The world isn’t always logic and rational choices.”

“I have been given to understand that is the case but I am not like that John. Surely you see that already?” John most certainly had but it didn’t put him off. He wasn’t an overly demonstrative man and didn’t need to be emotionally coddled. He just needed to know that it was there, sustaining him quietly.

“That’s something I will help you with Sherlock, as your alpha I want to make sure you aren’t missing something valuable that’s right within your grasp. You appreciate knowing the entire story, well, feelings are part of it and I plan to take very good care of yours.” Sherlock looked a little confused but accepting, his long fingered hands twined around John’s much smaller hand.

John leaned forward and kissed Sherlock again, feeling the omega yield and respond the tiniest bit. Passion flared so easily with Sherlock, John was surprised. Though he was no stranger to physical love it normally took some time to fan the flames but with this man, no time was needed. Sherlock stayed pliant for only a minute before pulling himself away, “We cannot. If we proceed down this path right now Mycroft will use this incident against you. It is better that we postpone the carnal activity surrounding your claim of me until after the contract has been negotiated.”

Sherlock looked calmly at John as if their mouths hadn’t just been pressed together deliciously, as if John didn’t recognize the way it felt when lover wanted to continue. Still, there was something between them, something not conducive to romantic entanglements. Sherlock was keeping a secret and John had puzzled it out. He was waiting for his proof and Sherlock demonstrated his uncanny ability to read minds. “The tests have already been sent away.”

Sherlock simply looked at John. Was that pity on his face? “You wish to know the truth. Yes, there is a secret, one that we have hidden for decades. Your search for proof has been for naught.”

“The lab tech already has everything. I could get a call back as early as today.” John was certain of it. He knew the lab where he’d sent his paperwork and samples. It was reputable and efficient.

Sherlock looked at John with that almost-pity expression on his face, “John, whatever idea you had about searching for facts where no facts will be made available may be laid to rest. You have a suspicion and if I read you correctly you already know the truth you are seeking.”

John looked at Sherlock and was amazed that no one had offered for him before this. “Your family is hiding something and I’m being used to help. If I am part of some kind of deception shouldn’t I be trusted a bit more?”

Sherlock examined John’s face for a minute. His brilliant and beautiful eyes were clearly unfocused as he formulated his reply. “I expect that this information would be given to you upon successful negotiation of your contract. I would have preferred that.”

“Why Sherlock? What is so awful that I need to be legally contained in order to hear it? I’ve already promised to be your alpha. I will. I’ll stay with you for the rest of my days and your children will be my children.” Sherlock considered John’s words but didn’t reply immediately.

“You gathered evidence and sent samples to a lab. You are checking our genetic material without permission but you are a conscientious man so I would suppose you would do the same regardless of who your omega might have been. You want to make sure you are doing the right thing by your offspring and wish to know as many factors as possible that might impact them. This is laudable and commendable.” Sherlock paused and stood. The omega was processing information again. Already John recognized the expression Sherlock made when he was deep in thought. “Once you know you cannot divulge this information.”

“Sherlock what is so dire? What possible secret could be so awful? Are you a serial killer? Is Mycroft? Am I expected to tend to illegal activities once we are bonded? What?” John had his suspicions but now he was worried. Maybe it wasn’t what he thought it was. Maybe he’d been on the wrong track all this time.

“You aren’t on the wrong track John. In fact you have managed to stumble across the very thing we as an entire clan have striven to conceal. I admire that and Mycroft resents it.” Sherlock gazed at John, his face as expressionless as ever.

“What is it then, can you even tell me? Do you want to tell me?” John was uneasy now.

“What do you know about my circumstances John? Apart from the small amounts of information I have shared with you?” John shrugged. He didn’t know much and told John.

“Did it never occur to you to be suspicious when Matchmakers called you so quickly, or that Mike Stamford was miraculously in the park just in time to mention the site to you?” John had not considered either of those facts.

“You were pre-chosen for me John. Mycroft has spent a long time assembling a list of requirements a potential life-mate would need for me to find them acceptable. One of your greatest virtues is your discretion. You have a fierce reputation in the army as being a graveyard of information. It dies with you." Well you couldn’t be trusted with the most intimate details of a person without being able to keep you lip zipped. John didn’t know what to say but Sherlock continued, “What do you think of my brother?”

Mycroft? He seemed alright, stuffy and pretentious perhaps but alright. “He’s a bit old to have a baby brother. Your parents must have had a long and happy marriage to have had a surprise like you so late in their life.”

Sherlock laughed and it was cold, almost lifeless. “A surprise like me. Yes, they were _very_ surprised to learn of me.”

John didn’t know what to say to that, “Explain Sherlock. What is this dreadful secret.”

“The reason you are being basically sold as a bed-slave to service me and get me with child is that Mycroft cannot father a child to be his heir. Not anymore.” John was even more sure his guess was right.

“Tell me.”

“Mycroft cannot produce an heir because he already has one. Now I must produce the next heir and continue the line.” Sherlock wasn’t looking at John anymore.

“The Holmes line.” of course the Holmes line, Sherlock shot John a very annoyed look.

“Mycroft is not my brother and Mrs. Hudson is not my nanny. Mycroft is my father and Mrs. Hudson is my mother. They were never bonded, never mated beyond the single occasion it took to manifest me. You will never be able to gather conclusive proof of this. I know because I’ve tried. They do not know that I am aware of this deception and I feel it will go very hard for me if it becomes known that I know.”

John didn’t know what to say. He could see how this would be seen as a great failure for the Holmes family to have their heir produced by a woman, who though very dear, was far beneath the mating standards of a bloodline like Holmes. “They were caught in an unexpected heat.”

“Indeed. Mrs. Hudson had suffered a minor trauma that guaranteed her heat would kick in the second she was close enough to an eligible alpha. The only alpha at our estate is Mycroft. They shared a single heat and afterward worked out an arrangement with my grandparents who conceded to confirm I was their second born child. Mrs. Hudson was allowed to remain with me as a nanny and later, as my housekeeper. Our relationship is affectionate but not close.”

John didn’t know what to say. Sherlock had offered him his family secret, a demonstration of trust since John wasn’t yet bonded or contracted to the family. His mind was set though. Even if Sherlock didn’t exactly love John the way he wanted to be loved it had only been a week. So what if Mycroft was Sherlock’s father and not his brother. At least John knew the score and he could work with that. Only one last barrier remained. The contract.


	8. Dominance

"John, there were things which Irene did to me, for me. It might help you to understand. Irene is a dominatrix. She was never truly my Alpha. We never bonded. We never actually had sex, at least not in the way that the law would consider me her Omega. She was contracted by Mycroft to aid me through my heats. Come with me," Sherlock headed towards the door. John reached for his coat. "You won't need that. We are just going downstairs," Sherlock said. Sherlock lead him down past Mrs Hudson's flat to 221C. He unlocked the door and they entered. It was not what John expected. It was more like what one would expect of a very expensive brothel on a tv show. The room was painted in deep red with black trims. The floor was black vinyl. The furnishings were well padded and also in red or black. There were a couple of magazines on the coffee table which John had never seen the like of. One had a naked man chained to the ceiling by his wrists with padded cuffs with a nearly naked woman standing nearby with a riding crop. "There is it is. I wondered where I left it," Sherlock said but rather than reaching for the magazine he brushed it aside and picked up a black leather riding crop. "Ah, yes, yes, all very interesting in here but this is just the tea room. I want you to see in here," Sherlock told him and opened another door.

This room was the bedroom. It was black. There was a huge rather comfortable looking bed with expensive linens and if it wasn't for the shackles at various points on the bed it was something anyone might see in any furniture store. John glanced around the room with his mouth agape. This was a dungeon, though not a dungeon. Sherlock noticed that John was more curious than appalled. "I have done some interesting studies on the pleasure of torture. It might surprise you to know how much an omega's heat will increase his pain threshold. Pleasure becomes pain and pain becomes pleasure and as it increases the pleasure once again becomes pain. I have not gone further with this study as I have no wish to die before getting a chance to write the last chapter. There is interesting enough a point in which an experiment become torture," Sherlock told him.

John was instantly conflicted. On one hand he was a doctor, a medical professional that found it difficult to condone an activity that, to his mind, humiliated and potentially damaged fragile personalities. On the other hand Sherlock didn’t appear uncomfortable; rather he was looking at John with an assessing eye, gauging his reactions. The crop slid through Sherlock’s fingers as he allowed John to take in everything around him. John wondered about the ‘experiment’ Sherlock had just referred to. Was it Sherlock that had been experimented on? Irene? Someone both of them knew or was it something they’d read in the very pointed magazines left artfully scattered in the tea room. “You risk nerve damage if you’re not careful. Permanent scarring as well.”

Sherlock shrugged and turned but not before John saw a small almost pleased smile on his petulant face. A small rush of something raced through John’s insides. This was clearly the bone of contention between Sherlock and Mycroft.

"Irene is very knowledgeable. But I am sure that a doctor would be even better at avoiding such damage," Sherlock replied. "As my Alpha, of course I would be pleased to do anything you wanted during my heats."

The conflict roiled in John's gut. He didn't want to hurt Sherlock except that he did. He felt a spike of shame join the reluctance and watched as an amused expression crossed the tall dark-haired man in front of him.

"John, would you not like to give me pleasure? Irene found it relaxing. It is a way of releasing tension that would otherwise build up. I have also learned some techniques of pleasuring that I would like to try to test on you. It would be an interesting study for me and I believe pleasurable for you. I find myself physically more reactive to you," Sherlock said as he slid his hand back and forth along the riding crop.

John could understand that. This wasn't a decision to rush into but Sherlock clearly had well defined needs that had to be addressed. John wasn't going anywhere and if there was any chance of him having a happy life with this individual he’d need to proceed with less than normal caution. Still, he didn't want to get into the habit of acceding to everything Sherlock requested, John would have to set limits eventually, once he learned more about his new partner, “What is it that you like about it? The pain or the rush?” They were very different things. John had been in the army a long time and knew there were many who took a kind of pleasure in the agony they experienced. On the other hand the brain could be stimulated carefully without sexual contact and induced to release the chemical cocktail so sought after by lovers.

Sherlock turned, looking at everything in the room, his mind working over what he remembered of the times he had been in here. "When my heats hit me, the suppressants are never enough. Pain has never bothered me especially if it has a purpose. There are so many ways to force a sexual release from a man, but orgasm isn't enough to an omega in heat. This is a distraction," he told John indicating the room. "My mind could be distracted from what my body needed. This is masturbation, a trick, an illusion. An hour here would help me sleep and I could work the next day."

John just looked at Sherlock and felt dismayed. Masturbation meant no sex. If Sherlock didn't want sex why was John even here? What about children? They were supposed to produce an heir, how could they do that if John never got a chance to impregnate Sherlock? Sherlock hadn’t indicated any reluctance to reproduce though, hadn't said anything about not allowing John to do his duty. He’d even responded to John’s physical advances. There was more here than just a lifetime of suppressant usage. John reached out and slowly drew the crop from Sherlock’s fingers, “Talk me through a typical session with Irene.”

"Would you like to see one of the DVDs?" Sherlock asked. "I made them to better judge the effects. Subjective information collected at the time of the experiment is usually tainted by the experience but to view it later when I am not longer experiencing the physical feelings gave me a better basis for my investigation," Sherlock asked. He went to the other room and choose what he thought was a typical evening. Then sat down on the couch and patted the seat beside him.


	9. 221 C

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has discovered something about Sherlock's past that he can't quite come to terms with. He's determined to learn more.

John really wasn’t sure what to expect but he understood what an important position he was in currently. He had to please Sherlock as well as the Holmes family. John wasn’t positive he wanted to see what a dominatrix did to an omega in heat but the doctor in him could not refuse and neither could the soldier. Nodding John sat himself down beside Sherlock and was almost startled when the rich complex scent of the man filled his nostrils. John scolded himself and forced his attention on the screen in front of him as Sherlock clicked ‘play’.

John cringed at Irene's treatment of him. It was clear that Sherlock was not enjoying the session but just being an obedient omega. His only pleasure came from pleasing Irene which was a typical reaction of omegas during heat, or at any other time for that matter. But he seemed oblivious to the fact that Irene was not happy, at least in the recording. The Sherlock sitting next to him was aware however. "I have not watched this DVD before. Mycroft called a halt to the experiment and soon afterwards she left the country. The DVDs recorded during my heats were not part of the study," Sherlock informed him as they watched.

It was not that Irene was particularly humiliating Sherlock. He was not forced to do demeaning things. In fact the only thing that Sherlock was expected to do was climax, which took him a full 46 minutes to achieve. In fact it wasn't until Sherlock was lying on the bed in comfort, and Irene was touching him directly, which seemed to repulse her, that he did. John noticed that Sherlock was not physically aroused by the DVD, at least not enough to be noticeable. Sherlock ejected the DVD and turned off the player via remote. They had barely spoken during the playing. Sherlock frowned in thought. He glanced at John. "That was perhaps not the best recording to show you.”

John sat there in silence for several minutes. Sherlock was watching and waiting but John just didn’t know what to say to the man. John would have to simply show Sherlock. “Gather together every single DVD. I want every byte of information collected and in a box together NOW!” John stood and firmly strode toward the furnishing that contained the variety of floggers, crops and binders that Irene had abused Sherlock with. John ripped them all out and dumped an armload on the sofa.

John was in a rage. He would _never_ use these techniques! Suddenly John felt better about Mycroft. He had been a good brother to rid his only sibling of an alpha who had so seriously misjudged the needs of her omega. Clearly Irene’s idea of distraction was effectual in her workplace but in during the stress of Heat all she was doing was acclimating Sherlock to greater and greater levels of self-deprivation and unslaked needs. John was sickened. Before he realized what he was doing he saw the room had been utterly destroyed. The cot Sherlock had been bound to had been ripped off the floor and tossed aside, the bolts unscrewed and thrown away. Every piece of material that had covered the furnishings or decorated the walls had been torn to pieces and even the bathroom had not escaped John’s wrath, all the expensive products Irene had bestowed on Sherlock to conceal the delicious omega scent were angrily emptied and discarded. Sherlock stood there, pale and shocked, holding a box containing a disturbing quantity of CDs and flash drives. John stared directly into Sherlock’s eyes. “I am _not_ Irene.”

The corner of Sherlock's mouth twitched and rose into a lopsided smile. He was shocked at John's reaction but he was also aroused by it. It was silly he told himself to put his hopes for the future in sentiment but he had never met anyone who was so interested in him, so _invested_. To Irene, Sherlock had been another job. She hadn't even lived with him at 221B. They had never slept together. When Sherlock got upstairs with the box, John was on the phone to Mycroft. It worried him at first but then he heard what he was arranging. Mycroft would send someone to clear out 221C completely and was suggesting that they turn it into an office for John. It had street front access via a small set of stairs and would attract the local office workers. "What do you want me to do with these?" Sherlock asked.

John stared balefully at the offensive media. He was tempted to destroy them all immediately but that would serve no purpose. He resolved to watch them all privately, to see what Irene had done to Sherlock and how so he could undo it all and miss nothing. If it took the rest of his life John would erase every last trace of her incompetent selfishness. Sherlock was talented and beautiful, and it was up to John to show him that there was another, better, way. “Give them to me. I’m putting them in my wardrobe which you are _not_ to touch.”

John took a breath and reeled his anger in before Sherlock thought John was upset at him. This wasn’t Sherlock’s mess, it was Irene’s and to a lesser extent, Mycroft’s. An omega could be talked into just about anything when Heat was used as a bargaining chip! That’s why the laws were in place to prevent exactly this sort of mistreatment. Sherlock may have fooled himself into believing he’d made a rational choice but from what John had seen Irene was an exceptional manipulator and had probably allowed Sherlock to convince himself and then agreed. John put his foot down; he would _never_ manipulate Sherlock like that! He made a note to check which suppressants if any Sherlock was still using, and made sure to make an extra note to dig deep, Sherlock liked to hide things.

"John," Sherlock said quietly.

"Yes?"

"I don't understand. Are you angry with me? Did I do something to anger you?" Sherlock asked. "You did ask me to explain what Irene did. I showed you. Does this mean you will not be my Alpha?" Sherlock seemed to be a loss to understand John's reaction. He knew that the destruction of Irene's room meant that if John was going to be his Alpha he might actually have sex during his heat.

“I am absolutely _not_ angry with you Sherlock, far from it. I am _furious_ with your previous alpha. Sherlock, this was abuse. This did not help you one bit. She took a situation where you were already suffering and made it exponentially worse! Adding torment as a distraction? Was she mad?” John took a deep breath; he needed to make his position and expectations clear to Sherlock. John had submitted to the humiliation of being sold for a reason, that’s why he was here. Taking a deep breath and waiting a minute to cool down a touch John looked up at Sherlock, “I intend to have a family with you Sherlock. I do not intend to harm you, ever. My goal is to become the sire to your children, to protect and care for you, to keep you as contented and happy as I can manage. You and I need to get to know one another much, much better. I refuse to simply force myself on you. That’s not how I want my children to come about. You and I are starting fresh Sherlock. No matter what you learned from Irene, you will discard all of it, as of this moment. We will begin at the beginning, together and when I believe that you are ready for it my goal is to bond with you, permanently.” There. He couldn’t be clearer than that. All John could do now was wait and see how Sherlock reacted to this declaration of intent.

Sherlock stood there, mouth slightly open, staring unblinkingly at John, as if he was frozen. Only the fact that he was still breathing indicated that he had not been turned to stone. A slight sound came out of his mouth that could have been a weak "Ah!" but it was unclear.

"Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock blinked. His mouth closed. He still stared. 'Oh God! I've broken him. Mycroft will kill me,' John thought. "OK, this is getting a bit scary."

It didn’t reassure John when Sherlock silently turned on his elegant heel and left the now destroyed apartment. John followed, carrying the box of media in front of him. Sherlock’s face was still frozen, expressionless with just a hint of shock. The tall omega climbed the stairs back to 221 B while a now uncertain John followed almost meekly. By the time they made it up the seventeenth step John had almost talked himself out of his resolve. He was almost to the point where he was going to open his mouth and take back his declaration except that Sherlock went right to their front room, turned, and knelt perfectly beside John’s chair. Now John was the one to be stunned into silence.

Sherlock didn't move so John put the box down and went to sit in his chair. Almost absently, his hand moved to toy with Sherlock's hair and Sherlock leaned into it. "May I speak?" Sherlock asked.

“Of course Sherlock, I want you to feel comfortable enough to say anything you feel needs saying. I want to know your mind.” John was confident he could deal with anything Sherlock might ask.

"If Irene was wrong, please don't watch the recordings. I don't want our relationship tainted by my past."

John thought about this for a minute. He really wanted to see what Irene had done to Sherlock but it seemed like Sherlock was asking for some trust. John couldn’t deny him this but he couldn’t just leave it at that, “I won’t….for now. If I decide I need to see them I will watch them and I won’t be asking your permission. If it gets to that point it’s going to be because there’s something wrong that you and I can’t work out on our own so I’ll need information you can’t give me.”

"I understand. John, I can't cook or clean or do any of those domestic things. As Mycroft reminds me I have the social skills of a cow, so I am no good as a social show piece. I am a brilliant detective and when my work is denied me I am a totally useless excuse for a human being," Sherlock told him.

“Well I don’t really expect you to be a traditional omega Sherlock! As I’ve already stated I want to keep you as content and happy as I can manage and if doing detective work is what you like then I will support that. I can deal with the house; I’m secure enough as an alpha to deal with chores without feeling emasculated.” Point of fact John preferred to take care of the house himself. He enjoyed the feeling he got from caring for his territory. Sherlock was an admittedly strange omega but John was finding he enjoyed all the ways Sherlock strayed from the norm. He added, “You’re hardly a useless human being. You’re amazing. Fantastic.”

Sherlock looked up and grinned. "Really?" he asked. Sherlock was one of those people who got so few compliments for his talents that he was almost overwhelmed with pride when he did get one. "I find you more astute than average, John," he replied, obviously meaning it as a compliment.

John understood that Sherlock was tentatively offering him honest praise and smiled. Sherlock’s face was an absolute sight, his pale cheeks were faintly flushed and he was biting his bottom lip unconsciously as he flushed. John felt a dual surge of happiness and anguish when he understood that this omega had received very little by way of positive enforcement. John vowed to change that.

"Will you sleep with me?" Sherlock asked suddenly. "Irene never slept with me."

John considered this for only a second. “That’s how we’ll begin then. With sleep. Just sleep, for now. We need to grow accustomed to one another.” John didn’t. He was ready to mate and bond right then and there but Sherlock deserved the courtesy of a proper courtship no matter how their lives had already been arranged for them.

When Sherlock entered the bedroom he stripped off his clothes. "What are you doing?" John asked.

"Getting ready for bed," Sherlock replied, as he continued to strip. Naked he climbed into bed. "Are you going to sleep with me?" he asked John who was still standing there in his clothes.

"Um, my pajamas are upstairs in my room," John replied.

"I don't wear pajamas to bed," Sherlock told him.

"Yes, I noticed," John said, hoping he wasn't blushing. He'd seen Sherlock naked on the DVD but he was even more impressive in the flesh.

"Come now, John. Don't be shy. You have seen me. Let me see you. You did say we needed to get to know each other better." John had said that _and_ had been rather firm about it so there was no way to back out of the demand. Reluctantly John began to remove his jumper and shirt. He kept undressing until he was down to his pants and vest then stopped. This was enough, for now. Curbing a blush that for some reason wanted to heat his cheek John climbed into the side of the bed Sherlock had solicitously left vacant for him. Even the sheets bore that redolent scent, that wonderful omega scent that was even more spectacular coming from Sherlock. “Goodnight Sherlock,” said John stiffly. His pillows were fluffy but John could not relax.

Sherlock curled long arms and legs around John just about cocooning him just after he turned out the lights. He was quite relaxed considering he hadn't slept in the same bed with anyone since he had to share with Mycroft on a visit to his grandparents when they were children. "I could get used to this," he said quietly.


	10. Bits of Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is adjusting to living with Sherlock and they've made some headway into their new relationship.

Mycroft poured himself a cup of tea from the tray he had taken from Mrs. Hudson on the landing. He was sitting in the arm chair in the corner of Sherlock's bedroom watching Sherlock and John sleep. Sherlock was awake and aware of his presence but ignoring him.

“Most people your age have learned how to knock Mycroft. Is there any reason you have decided to exercise your voyeuristic tendencies on us?” John went from being happily asleep to entirely awake and aware in the time it took him to snap his eyes open. Even Mycroft looked impressed when John rose smoothly from the bed, reflexively sheltering Sherlock until his senses caught up with his reactions and he caught the scent of the Holmes Alpha.

“Sir, can I offer you some tea?” John was incredibly irritated but also polite. He wasn’t sure of his position with Mycroft yet, he could not challenge the man for being in his son/brother’s bedroom. Not yet at least. There was still the contract to sign.

"Shall I be mother?" Mycroft said and poured John's tea. He held out the cup by the saucer. "Sherlock, you will have to come get yours."

Sherlock sat up but held the sheet over himself. "Is it not bad enough that you have surveillance in every room of the flat? Do you have to be physically present as well?"

"I have too much to do to be watching you every minute of the day, Sherlock," he replied.

John was glad he had decided to sleep partially dressed. He didn’t want to jeopardize his stance, Mycroft held all the cards and John knew it. He’d made his requests only partially expecting them to be considered. Mycroft must have a reason to be present and it wasn’t to offer them tea.

Mycroft sniffed the air. "Sherlock would not allow you to bond with him without sex and I detect no scent of it in the flat. Therefore, John I will allow you to remain...intact. But I absolutely, insist that Sherlock remains pure until after the wedding. Do you understand? This is not a contract of convenience. Sherlock requires delicate handling."

"I am right here, Mycroft," Sherlock snapped. As if in protest Sherlock got out of bed totally naked and walked calmly over to get his morning tea. John noticed that Sherlock actually paraded to Mycroft to show that John had not bitten him, anywhere.

Mycroft pulled the contract out of his coat pocket and handed it to John. "Andrea is waiting in the sitting room to witness the signing. Please dress for the occasion. Anything, anything at all will do." He got to his feet and left the room.

Sherlock gave John a lopsided smile, then jumped into the air. "Yes!" he cried happily, then went to hug John.

John took a deep breath and tried not to show how very relieved he was that the contract was here and ready to sign. After this the wedding would be merely a social formality, albeit an important one, as clearly indicated by Mycroft. John agreed with the stipulation to keep Sherlock’s virtue intact. John looked at Sherlock who was currently rooting through his wardrobe, only his lush behind now visible as he dug deep. The omega was clearly highly unusual and John could suddenly understand Mycroft’s worries all over again. John scrambled into his clothes from the night before, worrying for a second about going upstairs to change into fresh. The signing wasn’t a public thing. Whoever this Andrea was, no one outside the flat would see John OR Sherlock.

In the time it took John to button up his shirt and begin pulling on his jumper Sherlock had poured himself into a suit so tight John wondered how he got it done up. Artfully tousling his hair, Sherlock grandly preceded John from the bedroom, head held high and eyes shining.

The contract was laid out on the table. Apparently 5 copies to be signed and witnessed. A dark haired young woman in a business suit was texting. She only stopped when everyone was seated. "I sign first, then John, then Sherlock and then Andrea will witness all our signatures," Mycroft stated. "We will then call Mommy and tell her to start wedding preparations."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Really Mycroft! Can't we just sign papers? Does there have to be a wedding?"

"Yes, there does. Mommy would be so disappointed. She has waited a long time for this. Promise me that you will behave...for her," Mycroft asked.

Sherlock didn't say anything but sort of huffed in agreement, so Mycroft started signing pages and handing them to John.

The pen John used was heavy and expensive. It probably cost more than everything John currently owned and he signed each copy with care after Mycroft, quickly reviewing it as he went but all the wording was as he recalled. Sherlock sat right beside John and signed his name with a happy flourish. Once the last signature had been placed Andrea gathered the copies together and with quiet competence added her part to the procedure.

Mycroft and Andrea stood so John did too. Sherlock slouched back on their sofa indolently, looking satisfied and incredibly relaxed. Mycroft eyed John’s clothes. Without taking her eyes off the mobile Andrea had pulled from her pocket she nodded and left the room, “She will set up an account for you at the family tailor. Sherlock, assist your alpha with choosing a more…suitable...wardrobe. You want him to make a good impression on Mummy, don’t you?”

"John will wear exactly what he wants to wear, Mycroft. He is my Alpha now, so I will wear what he wants me to wear also. I am sure he has already observed from my wardrobe that I am allergic to wool," Sherlock stated just to annoy Mycroft. He pulled out his phone, "Mummy? Mycroft is being beastly. He's just sold me again," Sherlock told her.

Mycroft snatched the phone out of his hand. "Give me that," he growled, "Mummy? No, it's Mycroft. Sherlock is perfectly happy with this Alpha. No, Mummy. Sherlock signed all the papers." Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mummy. I did. Certainly not. There will be no repeat of that, I assure you."

Sherlock was smirking at Mycroft as he explained himself on the phone, all the while shooting irritated glances at Sherlock who had _not_ in fact been sold. John was the one who had been bought and paid for but neither man mentioned that. Instead Sherlock was childishly shouting ideas out to his mother while Mycroft tried to speak with her on the mobile, “I want a collar and _not_ rings.” then, “I don’t want Mycroft to give me away, he did that already. Daddy can do it.” also, “Make sure Mrs. Hudson sits on John’s side. He’s only got one sister and we need to fill the benches a bit.” and finally, “No flowers! They make me sneeze.”

By the time Mycroft had finished talking to Mommy, John was on the couch next to Sherlock and they were both holding their sides with laughter. Mycroft threw the phone at Sherlock and walked out in a huff. Sherlock caught it and smiled at John. "Don't worry," he said. "You'll get a say in the wedding. You won't have to wear anything ridiculous. Mummy will bring in one of those professional organizers. Do you have a preference of church? Or shall we have a civil wedding?"

“Civil.” John was very amused with Sherlock’s antics. It made John feel good inside knowing that the omega seemed to want to get married. He wasn’t protesting, in fact, he was acting like he was actually anticipating the event. “As for clothes, I hate to admit it, but I do need to get a few things.” a lot of things. John’s wardrobe was sadly lacking for both quality and variety.

Sherlock was lounging beside him in a bespoke suit while John’s clothes had clearly been frequently used for a very long time. The omega shrugged, “If you insist. I rather like your jumpers. It’s as if you’ve taken the ugliest item in the world and managed to still make it look cozy and warm. It’s suggests a lot about your character that you can even bear to wear them in public but you do, and routinely. I’ve inspected your possessions in detail; all your clothes are in similar condition. Aged, well-cared for, inexpensive and durable; you want clothing that you are comfortable in but don’t mind ruining. As both a doctor and a soldier you are accustomed to being in situations where your clothes getting bloodied or soiled is likely. You are imminently practical, for you the wealth around you makes no impact on your character. You are only concerned with providing your future offspring with the most secure future you can obtain for them, regardless to the cost to yourself. Keep your jumpers John, you can replace anything else you like.”

"An Omega generally doesn't tell an Alpha what to wear as you well know, Sherlock," John teased.

"But I can advise you on what will be acceptable for meeting Mummy and Daddy and the wedding. There will be dinners and gatherings to present you to my family and their contacts. You have superior social skills but I doubt that you have ever had to endure the social gathering which you will have to face. As an eccentric Omega I will be forgiven all social blunders but they will expect perfection from you. A good wardrobe will be the start. Fortunately, once you have been presented to all the right people as deemed by Mommy and Daddy, we will be left mostly in peace," Sherlock told him. He took a deep breath and then announced. "I enjoy sleeping with you, John. I hope you will make a habit of it."

John allowed himself to look as pleased as he felt about the declaration and felt twinges of pride at the faint pink that now resided in Sherlock’s pale cheeks. “I’m glad you do. We’ll get plenty of practice just sleeping with one another until after the ceremony. Right now though, I was wondering if there’s anything you’d like to do? Maybe something to celebrate our signing? Unless you don’t want to.” John felt it was an important day, one worth marking in some fashion but perhaps Sherlock wasn’t given to sentimental activities like that.

It was that moment that a man literally fell through the sitting room door. "A case!" Sherlock exclaimed happily. And at that moment John realized that his life was never going to be normal or boring with Sherlock. After a moment to recover from the shock, John rushed to the man's side and Sherlock helped him get the barely conscious man into a chair. "On the streets for barely 24 hours; runs a small printing business in Wales; functional alcoholic; approximately 48 years old; running from someone, possibly a client; left his hotel in a hurry last night and spent the night on the street where he was accosted and robbed of every valuable he had on him."

"He is also suffering from alcohol withdrawal," John informed Sherlock. He reached for the phone.

"No. If he goes to hospital he most certainly will not come out alive."

"If he stays here he won't stay alive. Sherlock, alcohol withdrawal kills. I know it is a common practice to dry out alcoholics cold turkey but this man has been partially inebriated for most of his adult life. The shock will kill him," John said. Sherlock poured a strong drink from a near full bottle that Sherlock produced from behind some books and waved it under the man's nose. He recovered enough to grab the drink and drain half the glass in one gulp. "Please tell me you aren't a closet drinker," John asked Sherlock.

"Certainly not. I prefer opiates."

John stood there and stared hard at his freshly signed omega. “We are definitely having a very detailed discussion about that comment Sherlock!” the omega shrugged, clearly disinterested. What else had Sherlock done to himself? The suppressants were bad enough but opiates as well? John took a short calming breath and looked down at the disheveled drunk now peering into his empty glass.

"Sherlock Holmes and my Alpha, Dr John Watson. Who is chasing you?" Sherlock asked.

The man looked at the two of them. He looked worn and haggard. The man clutched his empty glass and to both their horrors, he began to weep.

Sherlock literally backed away from the man. "Quickly, man. Whoever is after you may have traced you here," Sherlock said distinctly annoyed.

The man forced himself to stifle his tears, "My partner. My business partner! We worked together since the beginning. Yesterday....he....yesterday..." the man's clothes were more than rumpled, they were slightly bloody. John suddenly realized the man had been swaying with more than just alcohol deprivation. He was wounded!

John went into doctor mode and checked the man for injuries. When he found the wound, he realized that it was not fatal except in the fact that he had probably lost a lot of blood. "Sherlock ring for an ambulance. NOW!"

The omega actually looked like he was on the verge of arguing but after taking a look at John’s very serious face he flounced off and angrily stabbed 999 on his mobile. Two minutes later he was casting it aside, “They’re on their way.”

"What did you tell them?" John asked.

"That I have a stranger bleeding all over my sitting room and would appreciate them removing him," Sherlock replied.

The man looked panicked, “No, you have to help me! He wants to kill me. Please. Take this.” he handed John a slip of paper which had a single word on it _Jameson_ and then the man fainted dead away, speechless. Sherlock snatched up the scrap and began to examine it intently while John checked the stranger over. He wondered how the man had even reached them; the Holmes property was secluded as well as exclusive.

Sherlock got on the laptop and didn't respond to anything even when the ambulance arrived, but by the time he did respond he was grinning. He ripped the page off the notepad he had been jotting information down on and headed for the bedroom. "Pack, John. We are going to Llynrwst. I have made reservations for us at the _Pen Y Bryn Hotel_. Mr. Jameson has a printing shop off Bridge Street. We will take the train to Cardiff and then hire a car."

John just stared at Sherlock. The ambulance attendants were only just taking the man away. Sherlock wasn’t paying attention to him right then, and had simply turned away from the ruckus at the door to go back to searching happily online. John saw the wounded man off, expecting to have to give some kind of statement to the authorities but after the ambulance left he was standing all alone. The wealthy most certainly had a different existence! Sighing and wondering if life was going to be like this often John went to what was now their bedroom, found a rather high-end suitcase big enough for both of them and packed with the efficiency of an old soldier. Just as he was zipping it closed Sherlock bustled into the bedroom, shoved John’s jacket in his hand, barely gave him time to grab the suitcase before dragging John out the door and to the station, “Come along John. The game is on!”


	11. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've got a case and there's nothing to be done for it but to go to Wales on the instant!

The train ride was gentle and soothing or it would have been if John had been traveling with anyone except a manically energetic omega. Sherlock paced all over, deducing other passengers aggressively until one group at a time left, leaving John and Sherlock alone in the car.

John didn't realize how long the train trip to Cardiff would be. There were delays due to line maintenance and it was 3 hours before they finally got off the train into the chaos of Cardiff Central Station. A man was waiting with a card that said Holmes, making John wonder if he would be known as John Holmes from now on? But he shook off this notion. He knew that his first born son would be Holmes-Watson but the rest of his children would be Watsons. He was beginning to think that he would name all his children Holmes-Watson. It sounded good.

Sherlock took the keys from the man who escorted them to the car rental desk. John tagged along with the luggage as if he was the Omega.

John didn’t mind carrying the luggage. He rather liked watching Sherlock walk ahead of him, he had a glorious behind, one well worth admiring. Deciding he enjoyed Sherlock’s un-omega like behavior John neglected to chastise his mate into following behind his alpha as was proper. Sherlock was more and more interesting every minute of the day, he was definitely a handful but John realized suddenly that he was actually having a good time. He’d never solved a crime before and it was all rather exciting to be able to afford to just jump on the train and go wherever they wanted at the spur of the moment.

Sherlock was already chatting with the man at the rental desk by the time John caught up with him. John didn’t miss how the man’s eyes flickered up and down his mate’s body, and how his nostrils flared just a bit as he took in Sherlock’s delicious scent. John’s teeth bared instantly. The man was an alpha! Who let an alpha work a rental desk? Were they crazy? Crowding up to his yet-unbonded mate John continued to glare and took the car key himself, not allowing the rival alpha the pleasure of giving Sherlock anything.

“I want to drive John.” Sherlock held out his hand demandingly.

“Do you have a license?” John wondered if the Holmes family would have allowed Sherlock to do something as risqué as getting a driver’s license. Sherlock’s face went into pout mode and he tersely shook his head. John just took his hand, “We’ll sort that out after the wedding. I’m not your chauffeur after all.” The brilliant smile Sherlock couldn’t hide was all the reward John needed. John wasn’t one of the many fools that thought that their omegas were brainless breeding machines. Sherlock was very clever and it made John proud to know his mate was talented and capable.

John was not accustomed to driving and certainly not in the narrow hedge lined roads of country Wales. He had been provided a map with the journey marked for the quickest way there but clearly no one at the car rental office had ever driven this route. Sheep, cows, goats, hay carts and just people parked on single laned roads with no way of getting around them, hampered the trip. Sherlock had them stop twice at local facilities. "Sorry, must have eaten something that disagreed with me," Sherlock told John. "I don't usually get travel sickness."

John was properly concerned. He felt his omega’s forehead. Sherlock was a tiny bit warm but not alarmingly so, “It’s probably all the fresh air. Our London lungs are having a fit.” Sherlock smiled wanly and sat back in the car. There was nothing to be done but complete the trip. They were nearly at their destination, even with the frequent stops. The air was indeed fresh and it smelled lovely. John felt almost hungry in a strange way that had nothing to do with food. Deciding he was just out of sorts because Sherlock was feeling poorly John just made his way slowly past one obstacle after another with patience.

The hotel was a bit shabby. Homely and comfortable but definitely not the best hotel in the town. The fireplaces had been converted to gas fires, probably about 50 or 60 years back. Sherlock had booked one room for them both which was quite common even for an unbonded Omega with an unbonded Alpha. Sherlock laid down on the bed for a moment but was then too restless to stay there. He looked out the window but seemed unimpressed with the view. "There are a few architectural sites which deserve out interest here, but first the case. You should eat." Sherlock then suddenly had an interested in the case John was unpacking. After a quick inspection of its contents he upended it onto the bed and rummaged through it. He found the toiletries bag and emptied it onto the bed. "John..." Sherlock went white and dropped into the sole chair in the room.

“Sherlock!” John went right to his omega. Sherlock’s already pale cheeks had lost what little color they normally had and his skin seemed to almost shine, dewy with the beginnings of a full body sweat. The perfume of the flowerbeds must be coming from their open window because suddenly John could smell nothing else. “Sherlock, tell me what’s wrong. How are you feeling? Are you sore anywhere? Nauseated still? Tell me!”

"It's my fault," he said calmly. "I should have checked what you packed for me. John, where are my suppressants?"

Now John was the one to go pale. When he’d packed he’d grabbed their shaving kits and nothing else from the bathroom. Sherlock hadn’t given him much time, not that this was Sherlock’s fault. This was squarely John’s fault. _He_ was the one responsible for taking care of his omega! It was practically his only reason for existing! Suddenly the intoxicating perfume smell grew intense, almost painfully delicious. “Sherlock. Describe how you feel, right now.” John was terrified. He was praying that Sherlock was coming down with the flu.

Sherlock rubbed his lower abdomen. "Cramps, hot, slightly nauseous. _Petrichor_."

John remained calm but he was anything but, “Sherlock you should go take a bath immediately. I’m going to call your brother. You’re going into heat.” Sherlock protested the entire way to the bathroom but John refused to cave to his demands to leave Mycroft in the dark.

"Crwst Drugstore. It's just across the road in Ancaster Square. You're a doctor. Get me some suppressant. there is no need to call Mycroft." Sherlock seemed only slightly upset, until John tried to leave him and then he turned into a limpet, or perhaps more fitting his long supple limbs, an octopus. "John, _don't leave me here_. This is a public hotel!"

John staggered under the weight of the man. Sherlock had literally wrapped himself around John and was clinging to him anxiously. That delicious perfume was making John feel hazy and not so inclined to leave Sherlock alone in a hotel room. There were alphas out there who would gladly break down the door to get to an omega as bedable as Sherlock. He smelled divine. John shook his head. He couldn’t walk but he could text. Slipping his mobile out of his pocket John staggered to the hotel room sofa as he punched an urgent message to Mycroft’s private number, “SHERLOCK IN HEAT.WALES.WILL TRY TO WAIT.HUTTY” John didn’t see that he had hit the caps lock or that he’d made a very strange typo because Sherlock was licking and nibbling on his neck.

Sherlock did not know what had hit him. He usually was drugged out of his mind by this stage of his heat and there were no alphas around him to stir his instincts. He would text Irene who would show up at 221C. Mrs. Hudson would take an unexpected trip off to her sister's. But John's pheromones were the most inviting thing that Sherlock had ever smelled and he was not going to let go of him. The cramps eased, the nausea faded and he felt deliciously warm and safe _why John was so close_. "John, what is happening to me?" he asked. "Heats are not normally like this. I don't understand. I don't like not understanding."

“I’m your mate Sherlock. You know that. Your body knows that. Whether you thought of it or not your body wants this. I want it too. Too much. Sherlock. I’m going to have to lock you in the bathroom until your brother gets here. You smell too good.” John couldn’t stop nuzzling Sherlock’s long gorgeous neck. Oh his skin was so soft! John shook his head. No! He couldn’t do this! The contract had been very specific. John could not bed Sherlock until _after_ the wedding! John didn’t even know if Mycroft had gotten his message or what he’d do once he read it.

Sherlock grabbed a jar off the bed that had fallen out of the toiletries bag. He opened it and stuffed his nose full of Vaseline, so he couldn't smell John. After a couple of minutes it seemed to calm him a bit more but the thought of going to the shared bathroom down the hall was terrifying. It was not a holiday season so the hotel had few other guests. If the bathroom door was locked they would simply go to another floor. It was after all a very small hotel. John only realized that the bathroom was shared when he opened the door which he had assumed was to their bathroom to only find a toilet. Sherlock opened the window and took a deep breath before shutting it again. "Go see it you can get me some suppressants, please," he told John and then headed for the door to the hall. "I'll be locked in the bathroom."

John locked the far side himself, throwing the interior bolt so whoever rented the room wouldn’t be able to get to Sherlock. His heat was rising unnaturally fast. John groaned again when he realized that years of suppressants had thrown Sherlock off balance. Waiting until Sherlock secured the door after John stepped out of the bathroom John leaned his head against the wood to compose himself. Sherlock’s scent was intoxicating. The doctor forced himself to turn around and head toward the chemist. He was only four steps away when he heard Sherlock crying piteously for him to come back.

John's phone beeped with an incoming SMS. "He has suppressants." it read simply.

“Forgot them in London.” sent John as quickly as he could. “Sherlock won’t let me go to the chemist.”

Mycroft took his time getting back to John. "No local chemists have supplies on hand. It will take a week's notice to get them in. I could have them flown to you...but...John take care of Sherlock. He is your Omega now. Can you get him to Gwydir Castle? I have rung ahead. They know the situation." Mycroft included a map. "We will not speak of this to Mummy or anyone else for that matter. Is that clear?"

John’s knees felt weak at the reprieve. Their rental car was downstairs, they hadn’t even completely unpacked yet. John checked the map he’d been sent. The castle wasn’t too far and the roads were in good condition, “I can. We’re leaving now. Thank you Mycroft. We won’t say a word.” John disconnected the call without waiting for Mycroft to respond. His alpha instincts were kicking in. He had a safe place to bring his mate and he needed to get him there as soon as possible. John went to the door and scratched at it invitingly, “Sherlock? Want to go for a bit of a drive?”

"I've unbolted this side. Unlock the door, John. It hurts." Sherlock threw himself into John's arms immediately. He was a wreck. His coat, scarf and jacket were strewn on the floor. His face was wet and he had washed the vaseline out of his nose, or perhaps cried it out. He was shaking. "Where are we going?" he asked, wiping his nose on his shirt sleeve.

“A castle. We have directions. Once we get in the car I’m going to give you my mobile. You are going to concentrate VERY hard and tell me where we need to go. It won’t take long and we’ll be someplace private, alright love?” John was stroking Sherlock everywhere he could reach and urging him to walk. Grabbing up their luggage John took Sherlock directly to their vehicle and got him strapped in safely, leaving his mobile clutched in Sherlock’s long fingered hands. “Pay attention Sherlock. Make sure we get where we’re supposed to go.”

"I'm not an idiot, John," Sherlock snapped back. "We are going to Gwydir Castle, ancestral home of the Wynn family. It is a 14th century castle built on foundations that date back to 600 AD. And we can hardly miss it, even at night, since it is only 1 mile west of us."

John wanted to roll the windows down because being locked in a small car with Sherlock when he smelled so irresistibly inviting was very distracting. John stopped himself from doing so and became paranoid that other alphas would be able to follow Sherlock’s scent trail and try to take his omega from him. It only took a few minutes of driving and soon they had reached a well-kept lane heavily lined with shaped hedges. A stone building came into view.

Outside waiting for them was a single bonded Omega who was obviously not in heat. "Allow me to take your luggage, Sir, and if you will please follow me. Your suite is secluded. If there is anything you need, just press 0 on the phone and you will be put through to the receptionist. Anything delivered to you will be left in here," the young man indicated a short hallway that was had a door at each end and lead to the main building. "Enjoy your stay." He put the case on the luggage rack and left quickly. Sherlock had not let go of John's hand since John got him out of the car. Now that the door was closed he rushed to lock it and took a quick look around the room. "I have to tell you, John that I am under some stress that I did not expect. I am suffering from some anxiety at not having my suppressants."

“It’s not stress Sherlock. You’re in heat. You are going into Full Heat.” John dropped the luggage near the closet, unable to unpack. Sherlock smelled too good. John hadn’t wanted this to happen this way. It was going to be Sherlock’s first time with someone and once the heat swept them away John wouldn’t be able to take care, to be gentle, to make it good. That didn’t stop him from walking right up to Sherlock and taking in deep breaths. Sherlock’s body was radiant with heat and the smell! John’s mouth watered and he heard a small rumble coming from his chest.

"Do you have any idea how that noise makes me feel?" Sherlock asked. Sherlock breathed in deep and his knees nearly buckled. Sherlock whipped off his scarf revealing his neck to John. When he saw John looking he instinctively tilted his head to give John access.

John wanted to stop himself. He was an honorable man. He’d made promises. Oh Sherlock’s neck was so beautiful. No! John had to wait until they were married. Oh his skin was so incredibly soft and he tasted as good as he smelled. Wait! _No! Had to be married but didn’t Mycroft say okay?_ Oh god _was Sherlock lipping at John’s hair?_ John realized he and Sherlock were rubbing and grinding gently together even as he argued with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG! It has not been 24 hours since this chapter was posted and there have been over 700 readers. Thank you so much. We will try to keep up the good work.


	12. Broken Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock has gone into heat and John has been given a chance to get discretely away with his contracted mate.

John was undone, completely undone. All his promises, the contract, the upcoming wedding, everything melted away. His concern about Sherlock’s ability to engage in sex evaporated entirely as the taller man tried to consume John where they stood. Long fingered hands were dipping into John’s clothes until John realized he was being peeled bare one article at a time. Well that wasn’t very fair! It was only right that John assist Sherlock out of _his_ clothes now. The poor thing must be hot and beginning to chafe.

John took note of nothing. He didn’t see the luxurious room. He didn’t see the decadent bed. He didn’t see anything at all except the mewling omega in front of him. Sherlock was completely subsumed already; his face devoid of anything but hunger. The scent in the air was shifting, becoming complex with mating pheromones and John was helpless to do anything but respond. All his animal instincts activated. John checked the room only enough to determine that he was safe inside with his mate, that there were no rivals hidden anywhere. John felt hot, like he was boiling inside his skin. “John.” moaned Sherlock, “God you smell so good. Did you always smell this good? John!”

John wanted to say so many things but he couldn’t speak now. There was only one drive he was aware of. There was an omega present that needed him. John was ready to mate. MATE MATE MATE MATE MATE. Before he realized what he was doing John was arched over Sherlock’s naked back, shoving the omega hard into the firm surface of the mattress. “Oh yes John.” Sherlock’s thighs spread obediently and John couldn’t help growling all over again when the irresistible scent of Sherlock’s slick filled his head with clouds of lust. Sherlock’s behind was dripping with it, his untried entrance relaxed and inviting all on its own. John barely paused to admire his omega. Sherlock was utter perfection.

“Beautiful. So beautiful. _Mine_. Making you mine.” John was almost as mindless as Sherlock. His omega was gorgeous. No omega anywhere smelled as good as this one. This was _his_. He had to have him. Had to _take_ him. Had to make this one _his_. Save omega from rivals. So lovely. So tender. So _wet_. John found that he was on his knees now, licking hungrily at Sherlock’s flesh, not caring where he tasted because it was all so good and he needed, _needed_ , to claim each luxuriant inch of the loveliest omega in existence.

John chastised himself for his past choices. It made him feel ill to know he’d been with others when he should have been saving himself for this bit of perfection. It didn’t matter that he was a man, that they were both men. It was so irrelevant as to be laughable that John had ever worried about such an unimportant detail. What mattered was dragging his tongue over that supple flesh, pressing against that taut body, spreading those generous cheeks wide. For a glimmer of a moment John came back to himself, worried that it would be painful for his omega.

“John please! John! I can’t wait. Don’t make me wait. Please! I want it. I’m begging John, please. Oh please. Oh yes.” Sherlock was entirely naked and John barely remembered how they undressed themselves. Sherlock was on his hands and knees, automatically presenting himself, still mewling and arching his back temptingly.

“Love you. Love you.” said John who was indeed filled with a possessive emotion much like love. Right then it was all hormone driven as he sought to claim his mate in as many ways as possible. Sherlock was stimulated, willing, waiting to be taken. The omega was eying John’s arousal, seeing and observing for the first time. “Big. You’re big. Shouldn’t be. Small man. Should be small. Good. Good alpha. Best alpha. Perfect for me! Want. Want you! Please sir, need you!”

Sherlock was dropping deeply into his omega fast. Soon he wouldn’t be able to do more than moan and rut. With a snarl John pounced on the omega. Grasping his large erection in his hand John wasted not one second more on niceties. He pushed up against Sherlock’s willing entrance and gripped the man’s shoulders tight, “Mine!” growled John as he forced himself deep into Sherlock.

The omega keened loudly and pushed back until they were solidly joined as deeply as they could get. The heat made it easy. Sherlock’s body wanted nothing more than to be penetrated, filled, and bred. John growled again as he struggled to get a firm grip on the slender hips in front of him. He began to drive himself deep, the natural urges in him demanding that he plant his seed, and now. Their first time was fast and rough. Sherlock didn’t seem to care that John had bruised his shoulders and hips, John didn’t seem to care that Sherlock clawed anxiously at him for not going harder or deeper so that long red stripes blossomed on the alpha’s hips.

Through the pheromone haze John could hear both their voices grunting and moaning together as their flesh joined. He could feel his knot begin to swell, felt that delicious sense of anticipation. This would be John’s first time knotting someone properly. He’d avoided it up until now, pleasuring his partners without giving them that last bit of himself. This he had saved and he gave the experience to Sherlock without pause. As soon as the flared bulb at the base of his penis hardened John began slamming anxiously into Sherlock, trying to force the huge bulge in. Sherlock was whimpering and twitching now, his narrow hips jerked and thrusting as John worked.

It took both of them together to accomplish it. John thrust forward just as Sherlock thrust back, the knot almost caught and didn’t but John didn’t stop pressing and neither did Sherlock until with an audible ‘pop’ the knot slid into place and caught them tight together. Sherlock was screaming and writhing in pain and pleasure as the knot forced him open and triggered the massive omega orgasm he could only achieve during his heat.

John lost his mind as the pleasure rolled over him. He was Sherlock’s now, each clench of his inner passage caused John to spurt more and more semen, the orgasm that cinched them together simply lingering and never subsiding. John wanted to bite. Leaning forward John pressed his teeth to the nape of Sherlock’s neck where his shoulder began and could feel the throbbing gland there, waiting to be ruptured by his claim. John pressed his teeth harder but managed to restrain himself. He couldn’t bond, not yet. The bite would be permanent, Sherlock would never be able to hide it and he would be shamed for bonding out of wedlock. John couldn’t have that. He loved Sherlock; he needed to keep him safe and happy. Sherlock was his now. _His, his, his!_

They stayed locked together for a long time. By the time John’s knot softened enough to release him he was weak and almost unable to move. The sluice of semen and slick that rushed from Sherlock’s entrance filled the room with the scent of a successful mating. John felt content and happy, especially when Sherlock curled up against him and began to stroke his fingers over John, claiming him the way John had claimed Sherlock. “My alpha. Protect me. Love me. Adore me. Need you. Mine. Never go. Stay with me. Need you. Need you.” John felt such relief that Sherlock was reacting properly. The suppressants hadn’t altered any of his natural responses. It was right for the omega to mark him like this, to rub his scent into John’s skin to let others know who Sherlock belonged to. They smelled of one another, the best way to let rivals know that they intended to bond permanently. John was incandescently happy.

Slowly their higher senses returned and Sherlock withdrew from their embrace. John felt his heart ache a bit when Sherlock looked at him with an expression of shock. Both their bodies reeked of sex and pheromones. There were marks on both of them where they’d bitten and scratched at one another. John’s heart hurt a bit more when Sherlock pulled away entirely and went to the bathroom to wash John’s scent off his body. John had to bite his lip to keep from crying out his distress. This was the worst thing that could have happened! He hadn’t braced himself for the possibility so the soldier lay there on the bed, unmoving and near tears at the rejection. He didn’t notice the dip in the bed when Sherlock returned to him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, “John? John, are you alright?”

“You washed.” said John blankly. Sherlock smelled of expensive soap and not of John. “I signed the contract Sherlock. I made the promises. Why? What did I do wrong?” John had never felt so humiliated. It was bad enough he’d had to find an omega in this fashion but to be rejected like this? John wasn’t sure he could deal with this. A large tear ran down his face and he began to leave the bed, keeping his back to Sherlock.

“John? John, I didn’t realize. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to wash. I must have deleted the information.” John wasn’t hearing Sherlock now. He was sinking back into his alpha, the sting of rejection forcing John to remove himself from the omega who had found him lacking. Another tear fell and John couldn’t stifle the sob that broke past his lips. All he knew was he tried his best and his best wasn’t good enough. Sherlock had rejected him, cleansed himself to allow another alpha to scent him without John’s interference.

He was pulling on his clothes, mourning the end of everything that had mattered to him so much. How would he ever find another omega? He was broken and old. It was sheer luck that the Holmes family had found him acceptable, even if Sherlock did not. John’s instinct was to leave. He wasn’t one of those alphas that took what wasn’t offered. Sherlock would find someone better, someone more suited to him, someone who could be a better alpha than John.

John was slowly walking to the door in a miserable daze, his instincts forcing his feet to keep moving even as he crumbled to pieces inside. He could hear Sherlock speaking, he seemed to be shouting at someone and John took in Mycroft’s name. Sherlock was on the phone with Mycroft, probably ordering John to be picked up and taken away until a better suitor could be located. John made it nearly to the door of their suite when he was tackled and pushed to the floor by Sherlock who was still shouting, “JOHN! Snap out of it! JOHN! _I’m not rejecting you!_ I didn’t know! I made a mistake!”

Sherlock covered John’s mouth with his and draped his naked body over John’s holding him down. John’s heart stuttered and he moaned helplessly as Sherlock plunged his tongue deep and kissed John as passionately as he could, rubbing himself over John’s body, picking up traces of his scent. “Don’t leave me John! You are _my_ alpha. My only alpha. I need you. Don’t leave me alone, please. John? John, I’m sorry. Forgive me. Please, I need you. Just you. Only you. _It has to be you_. John? John?”

Tears were heavy in John’s eyes but he could still see that Sherlock was overwrought. “I failed.” confessed John weakly, “I’m a failure. You want someone better. I’ll leave now please. Hurts.” It stung badly. John’s body was filled with a rush of chemicals that fought to over-ride one another. The mating frenzy had been concluded with Sherlock's rejection and now John was hollow and almost unable to think rationally. John was already experiencing the sickness that came to an alpha who had been rejected, it would leave him weak and unable to fight off rivals, just as the omega wanted. All he wanted to do was crawl away someplace dark and solitary to lick his wounds in shamed silence.

“You’re not a failure. You are my alpha. _Mine!_ Do you hear me John? Open your eyes and look at me John! I won’t let you go! Do you hear me? I won’t let you go! If you go I….I’ll……I’ll hurt myself. I swear I will!” The threat snapped John out of his chemically induced funk. It was anathema for an alpha to allow an omega to be hurt which was what made Irene such a defective alpha. John’s concern for his beloved was greater than his sorrow for his shortcomings.

“No! You can’t. You are so perfect Sherlock. Don’t hurt yourself, you’re so beautiful, inside and out. The perfect omega. You deserve someone perfect. I am a failure Sherlock. Your instincts told you what to do and you did it. You don’t want me. I have to go.” Sherlock ignored John and simply plunged his hand between John’s legs, stroking him firmly until he began to harden. “No, no, you don’t want this. Don’t do this.”

John wasn’t any more able to push Sherlock’s hand away than he was able to let his own hand fall off at will. The long fingers that wrapped around him caused John to stiffen and grow long within a couple of minutes. Sherlock somehow got John’s pants pushed down around his hips and as soon as he was hard enough Sherlock simply swung his long legs over John’s torso and sat himself down. John groaned loudly as Sherlock’s body took him in. It wasn’t as easy as when his heat was high but it was still more than slick enough that John sank in easily. Sherlock pressed his forehead to John’s and began to move, “John, I’m yours. You’re mine. You can’t leave. Promise me you will never leave no matter what. Never John! I need you. I do. I need you.”

Slowly the chemical stew that fought inside John was swamped with mating hormones and John began to feel better and better. Sherlock was moving steadily, his moans and breathless gasps enough to trigger John into responding more until he was actively engaged. “Oh god John, I didn’t know how good this was. I didn’t know how wonderful you were. I’m so stupid John. Oh god, this is so good! Don’t leave me John. Never leave me. Make me yours.”

It wasn’t the same as the heat which seemed to be over for the both of them, terminated by Sherlock’s devastating lack of knowledge. The chemistry between them now wasn’t triggered by their animal natures, this was something different. Sherlock found himself desperately craving John’s forgiveness, torn inside that he’d caused such a wonderful man to hurt so much. John smelled of pain and shame. Sherlock was so upset with himself. He’d been so happy to meet John who was the unexpected epitome of perfection.

With all the privilege Sherlock had been raised to expect he had still never thought to meet an alpha who interested him. All of them were much the same from what Sherlock could observe, predictable and dull. Not John though. John was handsome and brave; he was amusing and intelligent, secure in his status and position. He had never once felt the need to dominate Sherlock, had never even attempted it. Instead John followed Sherlock around being useful and fun. It was like having a friend, a real one. Sherlock had never had a friend before and he wanted John to stay his.

Physical pleasure had never interested Sherlock. He hated the way he felt out of control when his heats swept over him, how his body dictated everything without conscience. Sherlock hated the way alphas acted around omegas. All they were interested in was collecting breeders like pets, filling their houses with wives and children until they couldn’t afford any more. John wasn’t like that. He liked Sherlock just as he was and Sherlock had never met anyone who simply liked him! People who showed interest in Sherlock always wanted something, his family name, his money, but mostly, they just wanted to fuck him raw as if they had a chance to ever get with him.

John was so different. He was worshipful, attentive and he was trying to be gentle. He made Sherlock feel beautiful and desirable. John was gloriously passionate, sensitive and responsive to Sherlock’s unspoken needs. Sherlock didn’t know how to have sex, how to let himself go, how to let someone share that kind of intimacy with him. With John it had been no trouble. It was easy to let John take him. It had felt right and when the pleasure began to build Sherlock knew he had to have more. Sherlock was astounded afterward; stunned that John’s body could make him feel so amazing. He had been glowing with contentment, and had taken himself away to have a lovely little wash before sleep, the way he always did.

When Sherlock was finished John had been in a near-catatonic state, laying on the bed shaking. The marvelous scent of John full of pride and affection was gone; in its stead was the dull bitter smell of deep sorrow and the aftertaste of misery. Sherlock had been afraid to touch him but couldn’t help himself. He needed to make contact with his mate, his alpha. John’s voice had been so filled with hurt and wounded pride that Sherlock had almost started weeping. He didn’t know what happened until John’s words forced Sherlock to desperately call Mycroft, the last person in the world Sherlock wanted to call. “You did _what?_ Sherlock, are you that ignorant that you _washed_ his mating scent _off?_ You stupid little boy! John believes he has been rejected by you! Indeed you _have_ rejected him, and in the cruelest of ways! He is going to leave you. He won’t be able to help himself. Sherlock! What have you done! John is going to leave you and he will _never_ come back.”

Sherlock dropped the phone after screaming denials at his father. He wasn’t going to lose John and finally had to resort to a threat of self-violence to snap John out of whatever had happened to him. In a fit of rebellion a teenage Sherlock had deliberately deleted absolutely everything to do with his gender, now he regretted the information he so sorely needed. Sherlock would do whatever it took to keep John, even if it meant doing things he wasn’t comfortable with. The discomfort had been a small price to pay to keep John though and the pain only lasted a minute. After that John seemed to come back to Sherlock, his body moving naturally beneath his, thrusting upward deliciously, his small warm hands exploring Sherlock. Sherlock couldn’t stop touching John either, and whispered his apologies in an endless litany peppered with compliments about John. John was wonderful. John was handsome. John was smart and so interesting. Sherlock would never give John up; he promised the alpha over and over again. John was the only alpha for Sherlock and Sherlock swore he’d never have any if he couldn’t have John.

That last remark seemed to fix the last of the chemical depression that swamped John. The more Sherlock promised to be his, the happier John became until finally Sherlock couldn’t speak anymore. John took over; murmuring words of love that made Sherlock feel strange inside, warm and contented. Sherlock wasn’t used to feeling like that but he liked it. John was so very special.

Suddenly John rolled them over. He kept moving until Sherlock was tense and aching beneath him. “You’re mine Sherlock. You’ll _never_ be anyone else’s.” John looked so serious.

“I’m _yours_ John. I swear. You are the perfect man for me. Forgive me John; let me earn your forgiveness. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I know I did. I’m cruel, thoughtless, some even say heartless. Not for you though John. I have feelings for you; I want to be with you all the time. Is that normal? To want to be next to you every minute?” Sherlock bent his head up and kissed the man, “I never meant to hurt you my sweet alpha. I’ll do anything you want to keep you happy, anything at all. Just never leave me. You can do anything you want, just never leave me.”

John didn’t say a word, he didn’t need to. Their bodies were saying everything for them as John began to move faster. Sherlock was coming apart beneath him, his pale face flushed and sweaty. Sherlock was moaning desperately now, clearly needing to orgasm. John bent his head and met Sherlock in a passionate kiss as Sherlock wound his arms around John’s neck, and just wailed as he released. Sherlock could hear John’s muffled curses and then he felt John harden and swell just a bit more inside him before the alpha spilled himself deep within Sherlock. It was incredibly satisfying to know that he was now covered in John’s perfect essence. Sherlock wasn’t making a repeat mistake. After they rested for a bit Sherlock was going to ask John to teach him everything he needed to know to be a good omega. Sherlock would not risk hurting his John ever again.


	13. Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sherlock made a terrible mistake that just about ruined everything. Thankfully he figured out how to fix his error before it was too late.

Sherlock stretched luxuriously. He could smell John. Even though he wasn't in bed with him, and Sherlock had no idea when he had gotten into bed or fallen asleep, he was in the room. He could also smell food. Bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, strawberry jam, tea, and lemon curd tarts. Sherlock sat up. He loved lemon curd tarts, sweet and tangy at the same time.

Pulling on his robe but not bothering to tie it closed Sherlock followed the smells of breakfast that tried to hide the marvelous scent of John. With a happy laugh Sherlock found that he was moving faster, eager to see his mate.

John was sitting at a table in a small lounging area just off their bedroom. It was private but there was a view of the gardens with one way glass. "Good morning," Sherlock said. "I wish to apologize for last night. You may punish me for my ignorance causing you such pain, in any way that you wish but I will not let you leave me," Sherlock said apparently back to his usual self, but somehow John knew that he wasn't.

“I’m not going to hurt you Sherlock. I would never! I’ve said it before, I’m not Irene. Last night was hard but if you’re serious about wanting to learn then I’m willing to help, of course I’m willing to help! I don’t want to leave you. Last night wasn’t my choice; if I had managed to leave it wouldn’t have been because I wanted to. Sherlock, do you not understand the basic chemistry between alphas and omegas? Do you understand what bonding is?” John was filled with mixed feelings. He forgave Sherlock completely. It wasn’t his fault. John was the alpha; he was the one responsible for helping his omega. He’d been with Sherlock for a whole week and had noted again and again how atypical the omega was. Sherlock knew less than the smallest child and had some strange misconceptions. John needed to understand his mate better, not make him feel badly for admitting he had a blind spot. Sherlock was a brilliant man. Admitting to personal ignorance was punishment enough.

"I understand the chemistry, John, but in an objective way. It is a somewhat boring study of basic bio-chemistry. I do have a Masters in Chemistry," Sherlock told him. "But I am not aware apparently of the practical knowledge of...sex."

John looked at Sherlock and couldn’t stop the furrow of concern that knitted his brows. With a deep sigh John just pulled a chair out for his omega and seated him for breakfast. John filled a plate with a little bit of everything and set it in front of Sherlock along with tea and a glass of juice, “I can teach you about sex, _that_ at least I’m sure of. It’s both simple and complicated to do. Sherlock, the next time you go into heat I want to bond. I want to be clear with you so you understand what that involves and what that means. Tell me what your understanding of this is.”

"You bite me in order to allow access of an enzyme in your saliva to enter a gland in my neck here," Sherlock pointed it out. He went on with the exact chemistry of what this enzyme was and its exact interaction with the omega's chemistry, his chemistry. Though he was correct even more knowledgeable about this chemistry than John, there was no knowledge of just how it was going to affect his behavior or John's towards each other or anyone else.

John was smiling softly by the time Sherlock comprehensive report wound down. The soldier leaned forward and brushed his lips against Sherlock’s mouth and then trailed his way down the omega’s neck until he was able to lap at the small area that concealed the gland, “Feel that? That surge inside? You’ve never felt that before, right? You were wondering if it was normal to want to be with me all the time. Yes it is. I’m your alpha. You are my omega. We will bond, you will want me above all others, will want to keep me happy, will want to bear my children. Your scent will change, you’ll smell a little like me for the rest of your life. Do you consider yourself a jealous person?”

"I believe so, though there is little in this world that I have to be jealous of," Sherlock replied. "There are times that I covet the talents of others, when I wish to remove the distractions that people have when I want their attention. Is this jealousy?"

John smiled a little more. Sherlock was a marvel. He was innocent and wise at the same time and John’s heart felt full of love for the enigma in front of him. Sherlock was obediently eating, sitting nicely at the table and listening attentively. John rewarded him with a caress on his head, Sherlock leaned into his hand and his eyes softened, “Yes, that’s jealousy, or a form of it. I just needed to know what to expect from you. I’m very possessive but then, that’s my nature. I won’t be pleased with you touching or flirting with another. Physical intimacy with anyone but me is right out. You can speak to whom you please but I will never allow another person to try and interest you.”

"I willingly concede to this; however there might be incidents of flirtation in order to obtain information for a case. This is simply a means to an end, nothing more," Sherlock replied. "I mimic the actions of others in order to elicit an emotional response from them."

John thought for a second. He had promised to support Sherlock’s detective work. “Tell me in advance so I don’t react inappropriately. As long as there isn’t physical intimacy I should be able to play along. _Briefly_.”

"Unless I require you to react naturally, in which case it is better not to warn you. Just be aware, John, that I never have and never will feel for anyone the way I do for you. Love is a disadvantage. It is a blight on the intellectual advancement of mankind. I have no desire to have any intimacy with anyone else."

John sat quietly for a moment, “Don’t misjudge the moment Sherlock. I can harm someone quite severely. Don’t trigger me unless it’s what you seriously want. I’m a soldier, I’ve killed.” John waited and watched for the reaction he’d seen so many times after revealing that last fact. Horror and shock would cause Sherlock to back away with disgust.

Sherlock smiled. "I shall be wary, my Captain." John had already killed a man to protect Sherlock. He had no intention of letting his brave soldier loose if it was not seriously warranted.

John was surprised all over again at Sherlock’s easy acceptance and couldn’t help the crooked smile that plastered itself across his face. John realized all over again that there was practically nothing Sherlock could do to convince John to give him up now. He was too perfect. Even last night’s massive cock-up wasn’t going to stop John. Sherlock needed John more than any other person in the world and John liked that feeling a lot. The alpha wasn’t going to rest until he was permanently bonded with this man.

Sherlock looked at his breakfast. He had consumed a few bites of everything that John had put on the plate and two of the small lemon curd tarts. "Have I eaten sufficient for your satisfaction?" He hadn't touched the juice but had drunk his tea with three sugars. "I would like you to join me in the shower. We can continue my education there," he said with a wink.

John’s smirk was practically a leer. As long as he didn’t bite Sherlock anything they did would leave no trace to be discovered. Eagerly John went to the shower with Sherlock. The scent from the evening previous had ripened pleasingly on the omega, John was satisfied that even with a good wash his scent would still be noticeable to another alpha.

"I should explain that last night was not an effort to wash your scent off me but that I wished to fresh for you. Though, as has been pointed out to me, I am not a tidy man, my personal hygiene is somewhat of an obsession with me at times. I also prefer a more formal dress style than is considered casual these days."

John was surprised at the relief that rushed through him. He felt light and happy; the lingering sense of failure beginning to ebb away with each word Sherlock spoke. “I think you look very handsome in your suits. Thank you for trying to be sweet-smelling for me. It was just the timing. We had just mated during your heat, that’s a whole different thing than having sex outside of heat. I’m rather proud of having such an attractive omega. I’m just sorry you have to show the world such a poor example as a mate, I wish I could be more impressive for you.”

Sherlock looked down at the older man standing beside him. He cupped John's cheek in his hand. "Oh, John. You are such an idiot. The only person it really matters to is me and you are _my_ choice. From that very first day. Did you think my father would have let you near me without giving me your file first? All this talk about not bonding before the wedding is his test to see if you want me enough to defy him. Do you think Mrs. Hudson would have let you in the front door if I hadn't already told her that I wanted to meet you? You were my alpha when you shot the cabbie. You just didn't know it yet." He bent the short distance he needed to kiss John and it was not the lust filled kiss of heat but the inviting kiss of a beloved. "Now, I have heard so much about shower sex...I want to try everything," Sherlock continued when their lips parted and he turned to drag John into the bathroom.

Well John had promised to teach Sherlock about sex so as his alpha it was on him to do so at the earliest opportunity. John decided Sherlock needed to know quite a bit and the hotel had endless hot water. “Do you know what foreplay is?” asked John as he kissed his way down Sherlock’s neck, fast becoming a favorite location for John.

"The conversation and touching which comes before sex," he said. "But is it foreplay if it does not result in sex?" Sherlock asked. "Flirting might be considered foreplay." Sherlock looked like he was going to go into deep thought to study his experiences with flirting and foreplay.

“Yes, conversation and touching can be considered foreplay. It’s all about knowing how to arouse your partner, to stimulate them so they enjoy the sexual experience as much as possible. Being in heat makes flirting unnecessary; your pheromones do all of that for you. Outside of heat though, when you want to make an experience pleasurable for your partner you practice foreplay. For me the amount of sex isn’t the issue, I am concerned about pleasing you, and making sure you feel as good as I can make you feel. That brings me satisfaction.” John was entirely enamored with Sherlock. How could someone so brilliant allow themselves to be so amazingly ignorant of their own biology? That would be like not knowing the earth was in orbit around the sun!

"I would like to explore you," Sherlock told him. "I have never been allowed to touch anyone before so I would like to find out if you have similar sensitive area of your skin as mine. People have never been my area of study except in ways in which it would aid me to solve a case. Experience is a much better teacher than simply reading about it," Sherlock told him as he started undressing John. "You must inform me if I do anything which is not permitted."

John bit his lip to stop a laugh because being stripped without permission would probably make most people rather unhappy but Sherlock wasn’t hesitating or waiting, “Consent is usually required before you begin Sherlock. Ask and _wait_ for the answer. Don’t decide and then do it. Some people are very shy, nervous, or perhaps they’ve been traumatized by something in their past and an innocent action could trigger them. Be considerate and you will get better results.” Sherlock’s hands slowed down and he looked dismayed but John just patted his chest encouragingly, “Except with me. I’m your alpha. I give you full permission to touch me however you want, whenever you want. I’m yours to do with as you please.”

"I have no desire to touch anyone else unless it is absolutely necessary," Sherlock clarified. "But I do want to touch you. Oh!..." Sherlock glanced down briefly. "I don't think my heat is completely over."

John felt a strange surge inside as he looked down. Sherlock’s inner thighs were painted with shining damp. Sherlock twisted around and peered at his behind, “John.” he said softly and turned to look at his alpha. That sweet perfume smell was rising fast, making the air thick once more, and John instantly began to get hazy. “John…..oh, look at you.”

Sherlock's hand caressed John's face briefly and then he proceeded with stripping John of his clothes. "Perhaps it would be better if we remained naked for the next couple of days."

"Good idea," John replied and drew Sherlock near.

Sherlock smelled intoxicating and John felt drunk on it. He ran his hands over Sherlock’s firm body before spreading his hands over Sherlock’s ample ass cheeks to pull their hips together. John found both of them were already hard. Sherlock made a desperate sound and suddenly shivered from head to toe, his head falling back and his eyes closing.

Somehow Sherlock managed to undress John completely then staggered back taking John with him into the shower cubicle. The water was already running warm but it felt a bit cool against their hot skin. Sherlock let the water run over his face and wet locks of hair fell down his forehead. It was clear that he liked the water. His hands gripped John's hips and held him firmly against him, so firmly that barely any water got to their groins. Sherlock looked down at John and bit his lower lip, his eyes searching John's face.

John let Sherlock see him, really see him. John hid nothing. Sherlock was the most amazing omega John had ever met and he was so proud that Sherlock was his, that he got to be Sherlock’s. John allowed all the admiration he felt for the odd man in front of him to blaze out of his face. John never wanted to change Sherlock, he just wanted to help him, and keep him happy. And fuck him. Especially now. Oh god the steam in the shower was making Sherlock’s scent come across even stronger. The mating haze was beginning to cloud John’s mind and he could see that his scent was having a similar effect on Sherlock.

Sherlock got that crooked half smile that told John he was tingling with happiness. His cock twitched against John's. Then licking his lips he lifted one long leg and wrapped it around John's hips. Their height difference was too their advantage in this position. "I can learn about foreplay later," he whispered.

No more encouragement was needed. John pressed Sherlock against the wall and tugged his other leg up so one was around John’s waist and the other, incredibly, was over John’s good shoulder. Sherlock looked impressed at how easily John bore his body up but then Sherlock only looked stunned because John was already beginning to push inside. Both men groaned deeply.

It took only a few strokes before John realized this wasn’t going to work. He could hold Sherlock up all night if he wanted to, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was they John couldn’t reach Sherlock the way he needed to. Sherlock was in heat and John had something he needed to do. While he was still able to think somewhat clearly John fumbled the water off and just carried Sherlock out, still impaled on John’s body. John slowly withdrew, reluctant but needing to towel Sherlock off quickly before chasing him back to the bed, “Knees.” gasped the soldier.

Sherlock was already crawling on the bed, obligingly spreading his knees wide to offer himself to John. Sherlock’s beautifully rounded behind was rocking gently, the slick keeping the crease of his ass shining. John groaned and everything went blurry. John was on and in Sherlock without another word, all he knew was that he had to make this man his, there was no other option. John felt his knot begin to swell and harden.

Sherlock was moaning, trying to push back as much as he could. Both men were caught up in their ancient mating rite, the alpha and the omega striving to join in order to achieve perfect balance. “Please John, knot me!” Sherlock’s voice was thick and raspy, filled with desire and need.

“Oh god yes!” John wanted it as much as Sherlock. Both men strained together, panting and sweaty, slippery with their combined efforts. One massive shove on both their parts was heralded with twin shouts of unbridled ecstasy as the huge orgasm that washed through them swept away the last rational thoughts they had. John was purely in his alpha now, all he wanted to do was claim his mate. Sherlock was incapable of speaking, and did everything he could to encourage John. Tossing his head to the side so sharply that his curls bounced Sherlock arched his back and exposed his neck enticingly.

John needed no further invitation. With a snarl John bit, hard. Sherlock was screaming again, his whole body twisting and writhing but the taller man had also reached up over his shoulder and tangled his hand in John’s short hair, keeping John’s mouth on the fresh wound as the chemical bond between them was activated.

John’s mating haze only grew more intense as the powerful taste of Sherlock exploded on his tongue. John lapped at the ruptured gland on Sherlock’s neck, working it to spread their combined fluids, encouraging it to spread as quickly as possible through Sherlock. John stayed knotted to Sherlock, even as the omega’s scent began to change.

Normally Sherlock smelled vaguely chemical, musky, dark and rich like night-blooming flowers. Now his marvelous scent was threaded with bright hints of John’s personal smell, of the dry dusty desert, the remorseless tang of gun metal and blood, the heady complex song of tea and sweet biscuits. John sucked in, swallowing down everything hungrily. The coppery taste of Sherlock’s blood mixed with the fluid compound of the mating gland was delicious and John couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t until much later when his knot finally softened that John came to his senses enough to stop licking the raw wound.

Sherlock was limp beneath him, almost unmoving except for small tremors. Sherlock didn’t even move when John pulled slowly out. John closed his eyes and explored the change in himself. He could feel Sherlock lying there. He could feel Sherlock’s emotions, faintly to be sure but enough to know that Sherlock was so deep in his omega that he couldn’t rationally process anything while his body adapted to its change in status. Sherlock was a contracted and bonded omega now. He would no longer be of interest to rival alphas. John had succeeded, he had bonded with Sherlock.


	14. Bitten

Neither of them had realized they had fallen asleep until they woke up. Well, actually Sherlock was waking John up. "John, I think I need your doctoring skills," Sherlock was saying rather weakly. John opened his eyes and nearly panicked, but he quickly kicked into doctor mode. Sherlock's neck and chest were covered in blood and so was the pillow, part of the bed and John's shoulder and chest where Sherlock had laid his head. As a doctor he knew that this sometimes happened and he knew that some Omegas died from it. There was a draw in the dresser marked first aid with a big red cross.

John quickly dug through the well prepared kit and began to dab at the blood carefully, searching for wounds. The only one he found was his bond-bite which was deep and savage, as well as still seeping slowly. John didn’t realize there was blood around his mouth until Sherlock picked up a wet-wipe from the kit and began to tenderly dab around his lips and along his cheek. The omega seemed unnaturally tired.

"Do not call an ambulance," Sherlock told him. "I know you are thinking about it. It happens, John. It is possibly due to the fact that I was on suppressants for so long. They would still be in my system suppressing any changes due to your bonding enzyme. I have survived worse blood loss and far worse injuries." When he had finished wiping John's face to his satisfaction he kissed him lightly.

John couldn’t help himself and nuzzled his omega softly and made him lay back. Sherlock would need time to recuperate. All John wanted to do was look after his omega, to make sure he was happy and content, safe and protected. John kissed Sherlock and checked him over carefully one more time before covering the bond-bite with a carefully applied bandage. 

"Can we change the sheets? I am sure that the hotel would have provided fresh sheets since this is the honeymoon suite," Sherlock pointed out.

“Of course darling,” said John, already wanting to call his lover by the sweetest of pet names while he was amenable. John knew Sherlock wouldn’t tolerate it in public, but in private, especially on the day they bonded, John was sure Sherlock would put up with it. Sherlock smiled softly and watched as John called housekeeping to send in someone to service their rooms. It was funky in there now, it needed a good airing out and freshening up. “We can take a short walk to stretch our legs while the room is being seen to.” A walk would be refreshing and it would keep anyone from looking at Sherlock, something the currently entirely covetous John would not be able to deal with gracefully.

"The castle grounds are quite extensive and something I wanted to do while in Llanrwst. The architecture of the castle itself is fascinating. They started building in the 14th century but several lords have demolished bits of it over the years and built onto it. I believe the newest extensions have been glass lounges for the more expensive suites. We could order a dinner trolley to be delivered just after sunset and be back to our suite by then. I believe it is customary to watch sunsets with your beloved."

“Is that what I am?” teased John happily. He felt in love. He was high with it, stoned on love. Sherlock was amazing, fantastic, incredible, and he was John’s. Anyone who met Sherlock would know it now. He helped his omega up and brought him carefully to the wardrobe where Sherlock slowly picked out some clothes to wear. John helped him dress and added a layer to keep Sherlock from getting chilled. He would remain weak, needing food and rest to recuperate properly. Unconsciously John nudged Sherlock’s chin with his forehead until Sherlock tilted his head back, allowing John to suck a small kiss onto his neck, just a gentle bit of color that faded almost immediately but made both men smile and sigh with contentment.

John had noticed that Sherlock touched no one nor allowed anyone to touch him. Even DI Lestrade had stepped back for Sherlock to pass without any contact. But Sherlock couldn't seem to stop touching John. That was until they stepped outside, then Sherlock's hands were planted firmly in his pockets and all but his face was covered. He seemed to know where he was going so John tagged along, not pointing out that Sherlock should be at the very least at John's side. But those long legs of his strode ahead and John who was short for average and exceedingly short for an Alpha had to take three steps to Sherlock's two. They were headed for a rise in the manicured grass surrounding the formal gardens. Sherlock knew what he was doing. As soon as they topped the rise there was a magnificent view of the forest to the west.

John took in a deep breath. The air was crisp and wonderful, but not enough to completely distract John from focusing on the complex scent of his mate. Now that they were bonded John was experiencing Sherlock in a whole new way and once again he was so happy that Sherlock was entirely unique. He could almost feel Sherlock’s curiosity and intense focus. It was dizzying to be connected to him in such a way. John hadn’t expected the bond to take like that. No one had ever fully explained what it felt like to be bonded but it was like his feelings and senses were now attuned to his omega’s. John knew that if Sherlock was distressed or in pain that he would know instantly, “So, what are we looking at?”

"Something you will not see in London. My parents/grandparents used to take me out to see both the sunset and sunrise several times a year. They would say that each day it is different and could see it every day and never experience the same again. Of course, I tried to point out to them that every experience was uniquely different but they would just tell me to shut up and enjoy the sight. I want to experience this with you." Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment and John could vaguely feel his discomfort. Sherlock pressed his hand to the bandage on the bite.

“Is it too much? Do you need anything to help with it?” John was solicitous. Right now while Sherlock was adjusting to the change John’s nature demanded a level of attentiveness that wouldn’t be matched until they were having a child. He was acutely aware of everything that might cause his omega discomfort, the temperature in the air, the degree of humidity, the proximity of any other visitors to the region. Sherlock was standing tall and proud, his magnificent eyes soft with memory as he thought back to the green days of his youth. John found that he was smiling up at his omega, pleased that he’d shared a tidbit of his past willingly.

"This is a once in a lifetime experience, John. If I took something for the discomfort I would not be standing here. I want to remember this.” He took John's hand in his. “I want to be able to feel everything that is happening to me. My connection to you is amazing."

John was grinning as hard as he’d ever managed to. The warmth and meaning of Sherlock’s words went right to John’s heart, filling him with tenderness and devotion. John knew this was more than just a chemical bond. These feelings were familiar and strange. He’d never had them before but John knew, he just knew, he was truly in love with Sherlock. “I’m glad of that Sherlock.” was all he said but the grin didn’t diminish in size or brightness. 

Sherlock dipped his head just slightly and gave John a quick peck on the cheek. He was blushing and biting his lower lip when John looked up. They watched the birds returning to their nests in the trees of the forest as the sun began to set. There was enough cloud cover to make the sunset extra spectacular and just as the sun dropped past the horizon, an enormous cloud of bats rose from the trees and flew north.

John reached out and laced their fingers together, enjoying the flush that darkened on Sherlock’s otherwise expressionless face. John looked out over the scene in front of him with great enjoyment, carefully noting everything as he captured this special moment with his lover. Sherlock’s fingers were cool and tightened around John’s instantly even though the man himself made no other indication of his affections. John was right back to being so happy he wondered of he could even bear it.

Sherlock was a bit slow in walking back to their room and stumbled on the two steps up from the garden entrance to their sitting room. He didn't fall but he was obviously weak and John could feel how he hid that he was being more than a little affected by the loss of blood. "John..." slipped from his lips as he stumbled.

John didn’t waste a second. He was stronger than he looked, gifted with the typical alpha strength even if it came in a compact package. He scooped Sherlock right up and carried him inside to lay him on the sofa. Setting his alpha aside Doctor John examined his omega carefully, “You’ve lost too much blood love. We need to get you hydrated. I’m going to watch you for a bit. If you don’t improve after you’ve had some juice I’m going to take you in to emergency. You may need a transfusion.” John kept his hand on Sherlock’s chest, worry blossoming inside his chest as he looked down at his beautiful but clearly unwell love.

"Oh, yes, an Omega in heat in a strange hospital. What could possibly go wrong," Sherlock muttered. "I realize that my health is now your responsibility but would much prefer you care for me here."

John thought he would float away with happiness. He didn’t really want Sherlock to be under anyone’s care but his. “Your condition could be serious. We have to take it as easy as possible until the weakness passes. The dizziness too.” Sherlock looked put out and mollified at the same time. John just took his hand and pressed a tender kiss to it, “It’s important that I help you Sherlock. Not only am I concerned as a doctor but I’m also your alpha. I want you healthy as soon as possible.” John kissed Sherlock’s hand once again and leaned forward to press a loving kiss between Sherlock’s eyes.

Sherlock drank the offered juice though clearly he didn't like it. Once finished he demanded water to clear the taste out of his mouth. John was pleased and concerned at the amount that he drank. The buzzer sounded in the small hallway indicating that their dinner had been delivered and the waiter had left. John passed through the bedroom to the hall, noticing that the bed was completely changed and the room refreshed. Somehow they had managed to keep Sherlock's and John's scent in the room or perhaps John was so sensitive to it now that just having Sherlock's clothes in there was enough. He brought the trolley into the sitting room where Sherlock was now sitting up. "My shoulder throbs mercilessly when I lie down," he explained. "And I can hardly eat lying down. I'm not an ancient Roman." 

"Hungry?"

"Surprisingly so," Sherlock replied.

John sat himself in the corner of the sofa after pulling the trolley into an advantageous position. Encouraging Sherlock to lean back onto John’s chest the alpha made sure his omega could relax without pressing on his sore spot. John was still able to ferry little bites of food and sips of tea to Sherlock who was trying not to show how very much he was enjoying being coddled. Sherlock was normally very independent, so coming to terms with his omega instincts was going to take time. Sherlock clearly did not want to eat or drink but was doing so because John was encouraging him sweetly, bribing the fussy omega with little kisses and sounds of approval with every nibble or sip.

Sherlock had ordered mostly meat and got John to dip it in the honey. Considering how much sugar and honey Sherlock consumed John was surprised that he wasn't fat. But the one thing that Sherlock flat out refused to eat was any grains unless it was one of his favourite tarts or pastries. Thinking back John realized that Sherlock had touched none of the bread that John had bought in the short time they had shared the flat, nor any of the breakfast cereal. It seemed he conceded to sweet biscuits brought to them by Mrs. Hudson. Though they always seemed to be running out of milk, John had never seen Sherlock drink any even in his tea. But that was the enigma of Sherlock Holmes. How he maintained his muscle mass, which was considerable for such a lazy man, John would never know because he never exercised, played no sport and their spurts of running all over London were few and far between. 

It was as John was pouring more tea that Sherlock's head dropped to his shoulder. John smiled at the fact that Sherlock had fallen asleep in his arms in the middle of dinner. It was hardly romantic for a normal couple but this was no normal couple.

John held Sherlock even though he was uncomfortable now. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders to hold him steady, breathing in their combined scent, finding it soothing. When John felt that Sherlock had slipped into slumber deeply enough he very carefully managed to wiggle around until he could grasp Sherlock in his arms. With great care the small alpha hefted his omega up, making sure that Sherlock wasn’t jostled and carried him to bed. With delicacy John removed the last of Sherlock’s clothes, leaving him bare. When he was tucked into bed John went back out front to deal with the trolley, pushing it out the door for staff to take care of without bothering them. Sherlock was weak from the bonding but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t experience another wave of heat. If it didn’t happen then Sherlock would want to continue with the reason they even came to Wales. They had a crime to solve and heat or not, Sherlock Holmes was on the case.

When John turned he was presented with quite a sight. Sherlock had thrown back the covers and had propped his head up on one elbow as he laid on his side. Only the bandage over his bite marred his perfect skin as far as John could see. Beads of perspiration were forming on Sherlock's forehead. "John," he moaned, holding his hand out to him.

John tucked himself against Sherlock, making sure he was between the omega and the door, instinctively making sure his mate was as safe and comfortable as possible. John admired his omega, the lines of his body, the gentle swell and curve of his long lean muscles. John was so amazed at the depth of emotion he was experiencing for a man that he really barely knew but with whom John would spend the rest of his days with. There was something about Sherlock that felt right to John, even before the bond had been made. Sherlock fit John the same way John fit Sherlock. Their personalities were as different as could be but they were like night and day, they did not work right without the other. Stroking his fingers carefully through Sherlock’s curls John allowed himself to fall asleep.


	15. The Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John had dashed to Wales with a purpose. It's time to see what they can learn.

It was not for another two days before Sherlock seemed restless and started talking about the case, but he seemed to be waiting for something. He kept glancing over at John. "Let's go to town," John said having finally realizing that Sherlock was waiting for John to say it was alright to leave the room. Apart from short walks in the gardens they had not left the room. They didn't even know what the rest of the hotel was like and it was one of the things that Sherlock had expressed an interest in seeing. 

"Isn't it wonderful, John? A seemingly quiet country town, people going about their dull dreary lives, thinking about tonight's dinner and what someone is going to be doing in some TV show's next episode. Does he, or does he not love me? Is he cheating? When all the time there are conspiracies and plots and murder running quietly in the background? Mrs. Average poisoned Mr. Average because he hit her one time too many. Mr. Nextdoor plotting to murder Mrs. Nextdoor because Miss Secretary is so much younger and prettier.” John could feel Sherlock overflowing with excitement at the prospect of getting back on the case.

“I never would have thought of it that way. That’s pretty amazing that you see everyone like that. How do you manage to see so much?” John was more impressed than ever with his Omega. Sherlock was clearly more animated now that they were moving about and John chastised himself, making a note to himself to make sure to watch Sherlock with greater care. He was a highly intelligent man; of course he was getting cabin-fever from staying inside their hotel room. John had to make a lot of changes inside himself with regards to how he treated his Omega, Sherlock wasn’t like anyone else.

They went to the print shop and found it closed. By the look of the piled up mail, it had been closed for a few days, possibly since their client had gone to London. Sherlock let them in within a few seconds. He tutted at the shops lack of security as he easily picked the lock. He pointed at the security camera. "Fake."

John looked closer. It seemed like a camera attached to a rig set to record everything that happened. In reality it was a cardboard box cleverly painted to look like a camera. The flashing light on the bottom was attached to a simple battery that kept it alight and therefore presumably ‘on’. It was only on close inspection that you could see how false it was, so how Sherlock spotted it at a glance impressed John all over again. His Omega was more brilliant than any person John had ever met. It was staggering how much information Sherlock was able to gather with the briefest of glances. “What are we looking for?”

"Evidence," Sherlock said simply. Leaving John intellectually and physically behind Sherlock went to stand in the doorway of the backroom. He shushed John twice even though John had not made a sound. "Don't be absurd, John. Our client is hardly the type who would attract a decorative wife," Sherlock chastised him suddenly. "OH! OH! I'm blind! I have been such an idiot. It's so simple." Sherlock ran around the room tapping photo prints on the walls. 

"What?" John asked. 

"They are both locals. They went to school together. They weren't just friends, they were best friends. Look here and here. And then something came between them. You see, here. They are both Alphas. Hardly Alphas of your standing John but Alphas all the same. Our client went away to university, while Jameson stayed here in this print shop with his father." At this stage Sherlock stopped beside an old printer. "They printed the local paper. It was only a weekly but it paid the bills and put food on the table. By the time our client was back from university the business was failing. The local paper had been bought out by a bigger company who had their own presses. And that is when Brand stepped in to save the day and bought the print shop. But nothing was the same between the friends, because our Mr. Brand had brought an Omega home with him." John was able to follow as Sherlock pointed out the clues to what he was saying all openly displayed as the shops history. "But the Omega can't inherit," Sherlock continued. What was Mr. Brand doing in London without his Omega? The struggle and the stabbing clearly happened in the back room. A rough attempt has been made to hide it. But we are too late. Mr. Jameson and the Omega in question will surely have fled by now."

John thought for a moment, “Was he bonded or just contracted to his Omega I wonder. He left his mate behind, that’s not usual for Alphas. I’d never leave you behind if I had to go somewhere for any period of time, not unless you asked to stay, even then I’d have to think about it.” John sniffed the air but the dried blood combined with the inks inside the shop made it difficult to pick out anything of significance. Sherlock was looking at John strangely, “What.”

“Why did you make that comment?” Sherlock just looked curious and John had to think a moment but Sherlock continued his question, “We’re bonded now John, would that make a difference to you?”

“We are bonded; yes it makes a difference to me. It would tear at me to be separated from you. If Brand’s Omega was only under contract then their connection wouldn’t be any more serious than that of people who were exclusively dating. The emotions don’t necessarily have to be involved if all the Alpha wants to do is breed during heats. That leaves a lot of lonely time for Omegas to sit around and try to occupy themselves. I’d never risk leaving you alone. My first priority is you and it will always be you. Mr. Brand clearly didn’t feel that way about his Omega. Why?”

"And if the Omega was not bonded then other Alphas would know?" Sherlock asked. 

"Yes, even when he wasn't in heat. If they were close enough to smell his scent," John replied. 

"Like working with them in a shop every day? Who tries to kill a person by only stabbing them once? What does an Omega do if they are running from an Alpha? We need to check Brand's house." Sherlock froze when there was a noise directly above them. "Jameson's flat," he whispered and indicated silence. Sherlock easily picked the lock on the back door where there was a staircase leading up the back of the two storey building.

John was impressed with how stealthy Sherlock was able to be. He ghosted up the stairs until they reached a short hallway. There were two doors. Sherlock listened carefully and then went to the door on the left. Picking the lock with exquisite care Sherlock turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open.

There was a small lounge room. Everything seemed normal, except to Sherlock's eyes. An armchair was slightly off the foot marks in the carpet where it had been pushed forward slightly. "John, stay outside," Sherlock said quietly.

“Not bloody likely,” muttered John. He pushed in front of Sherlock, whispering nearly inaudibly, “You lost a lot a blood just two days ago. If things get rough I’m the one who should deal with the situation!”

Sherlock put his hand on John's shoulder. "There is a frightened Omega in this room. He does not need an Alpha getting near him."

John stopped in his tracks. Sherlock was right. If there was an Omega inside it would be better if they were approached by another of their gender. Sherlock would be especially unthreatening now that he was obviously bonded as well. With a barely repressed sigh John stepped aside. Putting his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder for just a quick moment he whispered, “Be very careful.” and allowed Sherlock to precede him into the room.

Sherlock smiled at John's concern and then walked into the room as if he had been invited to tea. He sat down in the armchair that was out of place. "You can come out now.” The man who emerged was physically beautiful. He was shorter than John but well-built and obviously worked out daily but the muscle mass. With a mop of dark hair just long enough to grab and dark brown eyes. His eyes though were bloodshot and the lids red from crying, perhaps for days. "Master is not here," he said nervously.

The Omega froze into place when he saw John and blanched. Dropping to his knees the Omega knelt archaically to acknowledge an Alpha. John was horrified. This was a part of Omega culture he was glad had faded away nearly everywhere. Some Omega behaviors were instinctual; the urge to kneel by their Alpha, the desire to be taken care of by someone, the need to mate. This kind of behavior was trained into an Omega who had been raised to believe their place in the world was to be a living incubator for endless child production. “You don’t need to kneel for me. I’d prefer it if you stood actually. You may speak directly to my Omega if you aren’t comfortable speaking to me.” John made himself as unthreatening as he could. His smile was warm but not too friendly. He didn’t take his eyes off the Omega but instead began to radiate a calm kind of presence that spoke of his deeply nurturing character. Both Omegas responded by relaxing a bit.

"Why don't we all sit down together and you can tell me what happened," Sherlock said. "First tell me why you are in Mr. Jameson's flat?" 

"I'm Mr. Jameson's Omega," the man replied. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed. "Of course you are. Always, John. There is always something I get wrong. It is very annoying."

John was surprised too. He’d assumed the Omega was Brand’s. The small man looked nervously at John and then sidled around until he was facing Sherlock instead. John looked the man over. He seemed wary, frightened, and incredibly nervous.

"Were you there when Mr. Jameson and Mr. Brand argued?" Sherlock asked. The man nodded. Sherlock judged him to be at least 40 years old, but he acted like a nervous child being chastised. "You have no children?"

"We did have one child, a long time ago. Chad. I wanted more. Mr. Jameson wouldn't allow it. He said he couldn't afford children. Chad left 2 years ago. He said he had to make his own way in the world because the business would go to Mr. Brand. Master doesn't like Mr. Brand. I do. He is nice to me. He said that if I was his Omega, I would have everything I wanted. He said he would bond with me and protect me."

John felt a twinge inside. Pity. “Do you have a name?” John was once again ashamed of his gender. So many Omega were kept like this, unbonded and therefore unsecured, their futures depending on the whim of the Alpha who had them at the moment. Sherlock would never know that uncertainty from John. John would be there for Sherlock no matter what. This Omega didn’t have that assurance from the man he called ‘master’.

The man nodded. "Omega Jameson," he said. "I want to see the contract," Sherlock said, trying to hide his anger. The Omega went straight to the desk draw and pulled out the contract. He handed it to Sherlock. "This expired two years ago," Sherlock said after quickly scanning it.

John frowned. He didn’t know his contract could be on a time constraint. He hadn’t been offered the option. John had signed on for his entire life. The Omega looked torn and nervous, clearly wanting to sink to his knees submissively. He was biting his lip, his eyes fixed to the floor. John spoke with great softness, “Did you know your contract was over?”

He nodded. "I have nowhere to go and Master won't let me go outside without him. Master told me the day Chad left." 

"The contract is only valid until the youngest child leaves home, though it is for life if you were bonded. Tell me about the argument that Mr. Brand and Mr. Jameson had." 

"They argued over me. Mr. Brand wanted me. He was going to throw Mr. Jameson out of the business. He told me that he would buy me a house and he would take me to a doctor to find out if I could still have a child and we would have as many as the doctor though safe. Master doesn't allow me to see a doctor."

“What? Not ever? What about when you were pregnant? Are you well?” John was instantly concerned, both his Alpha and doctor instincts kicking into high gear. He looked sharply at Omega Jameson who was pale. John was beginning to see it wasn’t just nerves, the man wasn’t doing well. “When was the last time you ate?”

"Mr. Brand bought me lunch on Monday," he replied. Sherlock glanced at John. It was Friday afternoon.

Sherlock looked as cold as John felt. This was abuse, pure and simple. Jameson was starving his Omega. John wanted to check the Omega over, to make sure that he wasn’t in imminent danger. The man needed to be fed as well as taken away from this entirely illegal situation! “Do you know where your Master is right now?” John kept the distress out of his voice but he was watching the small man as carefully as Sherlock was.

The Omega nodded. He moved to the door and stood on the landing. He pointed down to the rubbish skip behind the shop.

John took a careful breath, “He’s in the skip?”


	16. The Other Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock have uncovered a bit of a surprise during their investigations.

The Omega nodded. "I put him in there on Monday night after Mr. Brand had left. I wanted to call for an ambulance but I'm not allowed to use the phone." 

"Tell me exactly what happened," Sherlock said. 

"Master was angry that Mr. Brand had bought me food. I am not allowed to have anything that Master doesn't give me. They were in the backroom of the shop while I was working on an order. I heard them fight and then Mr. Brand screamed, then there was a crash. I got to the door just as Mr. Brand was going out the back. He was clutching at his chest. Master was on the floor. He was lying on his stomach. I turned him over and he had a knife in him. I pulled it out and there was a lot of blood. I didn't know what to do so I sat with him until he stopped breathing and then I waited for Mr. Brand to come back but he didn't. It was getting very late. So I put out the rubbish and cleaned up the mess and came up here. I showered and went to bed."

The omega stood there obediently, waiting for the next question. He seemed to be relaxing now that it was clear that there were people around who were able to take charge. John felt sick all over again. This poor man! How long had he lived like this, so repressed that he couldn’t even save his Alpha’s life with a simple phone call because it had been forbidden! Why was Jameson so wary of allowing his omega contact with the outside world? “Sherlock, you stay here with him. I’m going to go check the skip.”

John dug in his pockets and pulled out a pair of nitrile gloves. Tugging them on, he made his way to the skip. Carefully he pushed the lid up but the visual check was almost unnecessary. The stench told the tale. There was a dead body in there. It was face-down, but John could see the figure of a man who was obviously Alpha. 

Sherlock pulled out his phone and rang the police. "Don't touch the body, John. The police hate that," Sherlock told him. The Omega turned away and went back inside. Sherlock followed. "Don't worry Mr. Brand will likely return for you. Just tell the police the truth. Don't leave anything out and don't speculate."

“Yes sir. The truth. Don’t speculate.” the man stood there looking back and forth between John and Sherlock, clearly relieved that someone was dealing with the situation. John made a show of waving his gloved hands at Sherlock who rolled his eyes.

They could already hear the distant wail of sirens approaching. Omega Jameson began to be very agitated. John kept calm, keeping both Omegas inside the flat until they were approached by a very wary team of police. The team leader was an Alpha who immediately discounted the presence of Sherlock and Omega Jameson. They all focused on John, asking the Omegas nothing at all.

Of course, Sherlock couldn't leave it at that and hovered around John, "Accident, of course."

"Accident," John said to the police then frowned and turned to Sherlock. "What?" 

"In a jealous rage, Jameson stabbed Brand and as Brand fled in fear of his life, Jameson tripped and fell on the same blade that he stabbed Brand with. His Omega followed his Alpha’s orders to the letter and did not use the phone or leave the building without him. Thus Jameson caused his own death," Sherlock told John, loud enough for the Alpha policeman to hear.

The police did their best to ignore Sherlock who made it very difficult indeed. John began to relay the information word for word, staring down the Alpha officer who eventually, very reluctantly began to look directly at Sherlock. John didn’t like the old-fashioned attitudes in this community. Clearly Jameson wasn’t the only one around who failed to have the proper respect for another individual regardless of their gender. “Suicide.” said one of the officers, clearly bored with the whole extravaganza, “We’ll take the breeder in for questioning.”

“No.” said John firmly. These police were ham-fisted and from what he could tell, completely uninterested in doing more than they had to. Once they had decided the death had resulted over a fight for an omega they had simply stopped being curious and were more than willing to just write it up and move along. John didn’t trust what would happen to Omega Jameson. “We will look after him until his Alpha is recuperated. We’re going back to London anyway, Mr. Brand will be very happy to see him.”

It was clear that the Alpha policeman was going to protest that he wasn't Brand’s Omega but then thought better of it. The paperwork having to care for an unbonded Omega would cause was more than he wanted to do on a Friday afternoon. He did have a body to take care of. When the coroner arrived, Sherlock faked a delicacy that only an Omega could pull off and John was told to get his Omega out of there before he threw up on the evidence. Sherlock turned away with his hand over his mouth making noises that showed him as distressed by the mention of a body.

John had to use every bit of willpower to not laugh at Sherlock’s very believable performance. Omega Jameson was instantly solicitous, hugging Sherlock and patting his back. John had to struggle not to laugh a second time but the gambit got both Omegas away without further police involvement. John appreciated the other Alpha’s mindset right then though.

Sherlock was a bit repelled by the Omega's hugging but tolerated it. "I was hoping for another night in the castle," Sherlock sighed. "But we can't leave an unbonded Omega alone in a hotel room and he is not sharing with us."

John sighed as well. It had been very nice to be locked away with Sherlock, deepening their already rather powerful bond. Still, Sherlock was very correct. They couldn’t keep an Omega in a public place alone and John wanted the Omega back with Brand anyway. He felt that having someone he obviously cared about close by while he healed could only be good for both of them, “Back to London then Sherlock. Let’s go get our things.”

"I think we should feed our third wheel, first." Now that they were away from the police, Sherlock was not so welcoming to Omega Jameson. "Your name is Jeremy Blacksmith and...John! Stop!"

“Sherlock you are not going to arbitrarily label this man just for your convenience! I know this isn’t ideal but things are as they are. Please, calm.” John just gave Sherlock a steady and reassuring look, filling it with all the love and commitment John felt so that Sherlock knew that the other omega was no rival of any degree. John felt for the omega much as he would a small child who had been hurt. He needed care and supervision and in no way was attractive to the Alpha who was bonded to Sherlock.

"John...Jeremy is a local. He might have family here who can look after him until Mr. Brand returns from London. What are we going to do with him in London?" Sherlock growled. "We will be moving him to London for a short stay when he will be distressed by the journey since he hasn't been more than a few feet from that building in years, I would imagine."

John stopped himself from rolling his eyes at Sherlock’s continued use of the name Jeremy but the Omega seemed delighted. John realized the man probably didn’t like to be named after his dead Alpha who had not cared for him, “Fine! For now I will use the name. Jeremy, I want to bring you to London so you can be closer to Mr. Brand. Would you like to stay here with friends until he is well enough to come get you? It’s entirely your choice.”

"John, I did not pick the name out of a hat. His name is Jeremy Blacksmith. He is no longer contracted to Jameson," Sherlock said annoyed. 

"I have a choice?" Jeremy asked.

“Apologies Jeremy, Sherlock read your contract but I did not. I didn’t realize that was your true name.” John chastised himself for the oversight. He should have known that Sherlock had information he didn’t. He hurried to reassure the smaller man in front of him, “Yes, you most certainly have a choice. You are a free man.”

"I've never been to London. I want to be with Charles," Jeremy replied nervously. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Well, he is not sleeping in my room," Sherlock grumbled as he literally shoved Jeremy into the back seat of their hire car and got in the passenger side.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to sort something out.” said John, remaining calm. The last thing he wanted to do was aggravate his marvelous Omega, especially before a long drive back to the city. Sherlock seemed put out but John just settled him in, checked to make sure Jeremy was comfortable, and took them all out to eat. He couldn’t forget that Jeremy had been starving all week while there was no one to look out for him. “Order anything you’d like.”

Jeremy's jaw dropped. He stuttered, "Anything? You aren't going to order for me?" 

"Did Mr. Brand ever take you to dinner?" Sherlock asked. 

"No." 

"Well, perhaps you would like to order something you used to eat before you became Mr. Jameson's Omega," Sherlock said.

Jeremy looked nervous and excited at the same time. He could read, albeit slowly, sounding out the harder words on the menu softly. Sherlock corrected him only a few times, discretely, and John was proud all over again of his Omega. He knew Sherlock could really hurt Jeremy’s feelings if he felt like it. Instead Sherlock was graciously helping the unfortunate man, “Would it be alright if I had some cheesy pasta? I haven’t had any since before Chad was born. Master said it made me fat.” Jeremy had an awful expression on his face, hopeful but also resigned to disappointment. He was clearly expecting John to say no.

“You’re lucky. John keeps feeding me all the time. I’m going to be the size of a car soon if he’s not careful.” groused Sherlock and that seemed to cheer up Jeremy, “I suppose they think that they know best.”

"You may have anything you want. But you haven't eaten for a few days so don't try to eat too much at once. We'll have supper on the train and a big breakfast before we take you to see Mr. Brand," John told him. 

"I get breakfast too?" Jeremy asked surprised. 

"Jeremy, Omegas did win equal rights before you were born. From now on no one has right to forbid you whatever food you wish to eat. I will teach you to use the telephone and you don't have to be with your Alpha every time you go out," Sherlock told him. 

"It is however polite to tell them that you are going out, where you are going, and when you will likely to be home," John added.

Jeremy clearly didn’t know what to make of that information. He blushed over and over again but tremulously ordered a soup and meal combination, shyly flustered when he was presented with options for the side. The server was astute and waited politely for the unsure Omega to stutter out his choices. When it was Sherlock’s turn he simply rattled out a complicated order, snapping his demands out and causing the server to flush nervously. By the time John gave his order the server didn’t know where to look and fled as soon as he could get away. John smiled over at Sherlock, glad once again that his Omega was so shamelessly strong-willed. It made John feel strong to know that he had it in him to mate and bond with such a special man.

"My plans for this evening didn't include sitting on a train or driving for two hours. I don't suppose we could wait until morning?" Sherlock asked John while they waited for their food.

John thought of it for a minute. The sooner they got back to London, the sooner they could be rid of Jeremy, “Where shall he sleep tonight then love?”

Sherlock shrugged. "I don't know. Lock him in a closet."

Jeremy was looking into his lap silently, hanging his head submissively. “Very well sir. May I request a blanket? It gets chilly at night.”

"Jeremy, he is only joking. He just means that he doesn't know. We will return to London and Jeremy can use my room tonight," John told them both.

Sherlock huffed and sniffed irritably but didn’t argue. John’s expression didn’t change, not even when Sherlock’s foot crept under the table and pressed anxiously against John’s. Sherlock was insecure so John reached over, picked up his mate’s hand and laced their fingers together, settling their linked hands clearly on the table between their plates. Sherlock’s cheeks pinked faintly.

It took John a while to work out what was really bugging Sherlock. They had only just bonded. This should be their time together and John was paying attention to another Omega. Jealousy, pure and simple, with a touch of fear of betrayal. After Irene's treatment of him, he understood. An Omega's first right was to sex during their heats at the very least. Sherlock was worried that John would only be his Alpha during his heats. It was then that it struck John that he should dedicate his practice to the health of Omegas. He would need either a Beta or a bonded Omega assistant. He was deep in thought when Sherlock squeezed his hand. The waiter was asking something. "Dessert, Sir?" Jeremy was looking at John eagerly. 

"The apple pie, is it fresh baked or one of those frozen things?" Sherlock asked. 

"I am sorry, Sir. It was frozen," the waiter replied. 

Sherlock sighed. "Brandy snaps and tea, Chamomile." 

"We have no Chamomile Tea, Sir." 

"Peppermint?" Sherlock asked. The waited shook his head. "I suppose it would be too much to ask for Verbena?" 

"We have Indian tea." 

"Not served in the traditional Indian way I hope," Sherlock asked. 

"Sir?" 

"Black, no sugar," Sherlock stated.

The server made a note of the requirement and then looked abashed at John’s stern glare. John ordered tea the way he knew Sherlock preferred it and even made the effort of discovering how Jeremy liked his tea, also ordering it the way the Omega preferred. After that though John deferred to Sherlock’s tastes, spoiling his Omega as much as possible, praising Sherlock’s choices for their meal and indicating to Jeremy that Sherlock was a role model to consider emulating. Sherlock was mollified by John’s attitude and warmed slightly to the other Omega, Their meal was enjoyable, John allowing time for dessert but not allowing alcohol since they were going on the road soon. He didn’t want to complicate the trip.

As they were leaving the restaurant, Sherlock leaned over to their waiter who was for the moment behind the counter. "Tea in India is served very milky and far too sweet. Perhaps you might find a few minutes to find out what you are offering." John left him a substantial tip. He ushered the Omegas out but not only because Sherlock was being a prat but because Sherlock was nauseous. He kept rubbing his neck and looked paler than usual. Having eaten on half an entree sized portion, and given the rest to Jeremy, Sherlock did eat the Brandy snaps and left the cream. He had only sipped his tea after putting half the sugar bowl into it.

John got Jeremy into the vehicle and pulled Sherlock close to him. “Are you feeling alright beautiful? I don’t want you getting ill for any reason. You don’t look well. Be honest, are you feeling okay?” John rubbed Sherlock’s back and silently urged him to just tell him what was wrong. John knew that they were at a delicate stage in their bonding. John rubbed Sherlock’s stomach lightly and felt his Omega sag against him and felt a soft relieved sigh exhaled into his hair.

"I'm a little nauseous, and the bond bite is hurting. Before we pack can you have a look at it?"

John nodded. He was concerned. Sherlock was taking longer to heal than he expected. Most Omegas bond bites healed after only a couple of days. It had been that long and more already. By the time they got back to their room to pack John was very worried and chastising himself once more. Sherlock was a reluctant eater, and he didn’t hydrate himself enough. If he was to heal the John as his Alpha would have to find some way to positively encourage his mate to take better care of himself, “Jeremy, feel free to watch the telly. Sherlock and I will be back shortly.”

Sherlock followed John into the bedroom, leaving Jeremy awestruck having never been inside a posh hotel before. It didn't take long for him to work out the telly even though he hadn't seen one for at least the last two decades. Jameson had not permitted it. Sherlock removed his coat and scarf and then his jacket and his shirt. John carefully removed the bandage. He could see immediately that it was infected.

“Sherlock this doesn’t look good. I’m going to run down to the chemists and get you some antibiotic cream. That will get us to London where I can get you something better to help you with that. For now I’m going to clean and bandage it up. After this you’re going to go to drink at least two tall glass of water, and by that I mean at least a complete liter of water! You’re dehydrated as well. Please love?” John allowed himself to display the worry he felt and looked deeply into Sherlock’s eyes as he waited for a response.

Sherlock nodded. Then as John turned to go, he grabbed his arm. "Don't...don't try to claim Jeremy. He will be happy with Brand."

John smiled at Sherlock tenderly, “You are my only Omega Sherlock. I’ll never want another. Jeremy is a nice man and I look forward to delivering him to Brand. I don’t want him. I only want you.” with that John leaned in and kissed Sherlock tenderly, infusing the gentle caress with as much love as he could.

Within an hour they were on their way back to Cardiff. The hotel provided the map and though the route was longer by miles, it was shorter time-wise since most of the roads were main roads and not hedge lined single lanes. It was sheer luck that the seat-belt went over Sherlock's good shoulder.

By the time they arrived at Cardiff Sherlock was distinctly uncomfortable. John was concerned that the pale cast of Sherlock skin indicated that the infection was greater than he had originally suspected.

Jeremy carried their bags from the car park to the car rental kiosk, where John handed in the keys and signed the paperwork. Then he stood for a moment just looking at Sherlock. "No, I am not going to hospital. I am certain that you can deal with my cocaine withdrawal yourself. I stopped using the day we first met," Sherlock whispered quietly in John's ear. "Unless you want to be without me for the next 6 months. I am sure Mycroft can arrange for me to go back into rehab."

John felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. Cocaine withdrawal? He felt sick, shocked and suddenly he understood why Sherlock was so pale, why he was so weak and healing so slowly. Nodding John took Sherlock’s hand in his, “Of course I’ll help you love. No, I won’t let you go to rehab. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you get well. You can trust me on that Sherlock.”

Sherlock held his hand which spoke volumes about how ill he was feeling. He didn't like to be touched or to touch in public. "I'll be alright. I am not a heavy user. My concentration will not be at its peak for the next couple of months."

“I’m going to learn everything we need to know to make it as comfortable for you as possible. You are my number one concern Sherlock, nothing else matters.” John wanted to reassure his mate of his devotion as much as he could. Sherlock would be feeling stressed from the combination of the infection as well as the anxiety brought on by his body’s yearning for his favorite drug.

"The train will not wait," Sherlock said suddenly and headed towards the platform. He stopped at a snack kiosk and bought a surprising amount of candy bars; one of every sort they had. He handed the packet to Jeremy once they were seated and their luggage stowed. "Knock yourself out," he said.

John opened up the candy bar on the top of the pile, broke off a piece and fed it to Sherlock before giving him a quick kiss on the mouth. Sherlock didn’t look his best. He was pasty and damp with sweat, flushed in an unhealthy way but John didn’t see that. He saw his beautiful Omega in distress and all that mattered to John was finding some way, any way to bring his mate comfort.

There was unfortunately no first class on the train so they were forced to sit in a crowded carriage with people headed for London for the weekend. Jeremy was immensely happy. He was out in the public and he had been given a bag of sweets which he had not been permitted since he became Jameson's Omega. He was all giggly like a teenager. He guarded the bag as if it had the crown jewels.

Sherlock looked on the verge of saying something cutting but John just laced their fingers together and hugged Sherlock’s shoulders, encouraging his Omega to exhale and breathe until he was relaxed. John knew his scent would help sooth Sherlock who was going to be easily irritated by everything. Sure enough Sherlock shifted himself until he was able to press his nose to John’s neck.

Within a few minutes Sherlock fell asleep and John held him close. "Are you just special or do other Alphas treat their Omegas like you?" Jeremy asked John quietly.


	17. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock have rescued an Omega from a rather unpleasant situation and are escorting him back to London.

John was very unhappy with his gender right then, “I think every Alpha is capable of being this way. I guess we’re all different in one way or another. Mr. Brand seems like he wants to be a good Alpha to you, didn’t you say he wants to bond?”

"Yes, he didn't like how Mr. Jameson treated me. He said I wasn't a slave. We were all friends in school. Then Mr. Brand went away to school and they transferred me to an Omega school."

John held Sherlock a bit tighter now. He was glad his aristocratic mate had never had to deal with an Omega school. The skills that were taught the students were entirely domestic. They were taught to clean, how to raise their children, how to please their mates, proper behavior, everything. John had always abhorred the outright conditioning many Omegas received as a result of those schools. Very few schools bothered to inform the Omegas of their current rights and status, simply assuming there was an Alpha at home that would talk them through the issues. “Well I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to see you. We’ll take you directly to the hospital.”

John was true to his promise and they took a taxi from the station directly to the hospital. When they reached the door of the ward that Brand was in Jeremy screamed and ran towards the young man standing beside Brand. "Chad!" Jeremy literally ran into his arms.

John and Sherlock hung back by the door, not willing to intrude on an emotional reunion. Jeremy was almost unable to speak, overwhelmed from seeing his only child as well as his wounded Alpha. Brand looked weak and pale but his face was filled with happiness as he reached for Jeremy’s hand. As soon as the Omega could let go of his son he went right to Brand, hugging him carefully and fussing over his bandages. “They say I’m free Charles. I can do as I please.”

Brand lifted Jeremy's hand to his lips. "Then will you be my Omega?" he asked. 

"Yes, oh, yes. I have always wanted that," Jeremy replied. 

"You can stay at my place until Charlie is out of hospital," Chad told his father. "Dr Watson promised me breakfast. Can I have breakfast at your place?" Jeremy asked. 

"Dad, you can eat what you want when you want. Now officially, I am your protector until you sign a contract with Charlie. So I will look after you." John walked over and put Jeremy's bag beside Chad. 

"He's had quite a lot of sweets on the train and we have been traveling for four hours. Please take care of him." 

"Mr. Blacksmith is not an idiot. He is simply uneducated. I recommend the Omega Rehabilitation Institute in Oxford," Sherlock told them.

“I was already making arrangements.” said Brand. “I needed to ask Jeremy first though, but I wanted to check the place out first. I didn’t want to make a bad situation worse. I remember how Jeremy used to be, back before everything changed so much. We’ll get there again and even if we don’t, I’m still willing to bond with him, if he wants.” Jeremy nodded. 

"I am sorry to say that Mr. Blacksmith will never be quite the same but one good thing did come of it," Sherlock replied turning to Chad. "My Alpha will send you our bill," he said and casually strolled away. John rolled his eyes and grabbed up their bag. 

"He's worth it," he commented to Brand and followed Sherlock.

John was still grinning even though he was chasing after his omega while carrying everything they’d brought with them. At a glance anyone would think their roles were reversed but John didn’t care what anyone else thought. He had no social standing to maintain, no job or position to risk. He had nothing but the standards and values inside him to live up to and was therefore free to adore Sherlock for being the most unusual Omega he’d ever imagined. John suddenly couldn’t wait to get Sherlock home where they could hopefully enjoy a little private time together.

Mrs. Hudson answered the door and hugged Sherlock. "You treat him right or I will call Mycroft," she told John with a grin. "Shall I bring a tray of tea up for you boys?" 

"No thank you, Mrs. Hudson. We are quite exhausted. It was a four hour trip," Sherlock replied, completely relaxed now that he was in his own home.

John saw Mrs. Hudson to the door, giving her a fond smile as she bustled back downstairs. Knowing she was Sherlock’s bearer didn’t seem to affect the degree of affection John already felt for the dear old lady. Turning back John took stock of his Omega. Now that they were home all pretenses vanished and Sherlock really did look exhausted. “Before you sleep you need to have something to drink and something proper to eat. You can’t live on candy forever.”

Knowing Sherlock was in a delicate state John set about making tea and putting together a hearty sandwich and a simple salad. John made Sherlock sit at the table, keeping an eye on his mate while he prepared the food. Sherlock was too tired to argue, even though he clearly wanted to deny his need for more food. They’d had dinner already after all.

Sherlock ate what John fed him but protested by not attempting to eat anything else. "Do I have to make aeroplane noises?" John asked. 

"If you wish," Sherlock said. But he still refused to eat the bread or anything with milk in it. "Sherlock, you aren't telling me everything. As your doctor I should know why you don't touch gluten or lactose and why do you eat so much sugar?" 

"I have hereditary coproporphyria," Sherlock told him reluctantly. He covered his face in his hands. "Please, John. I know it is a contract breaker, but it hasn't presented in my family for many generations. The chances of any of my children having it..."

“Stop. Just stop.” John pulled Sherlock close and kissed him tenderly, “It’s not a deal breaker. It can’t be. We’re bonded. No matter what, I’m going to stay with you Sherlock. I’m very disappointed that you kept this from me. I should warn you, I have trust issues. I need to know I can trust you Sherlock. I don’t mean I need to know every little thing in your head but things that affect you, affect us, those things I need to know. Do you understand what it would do to me if I allowed you to suffer? How I would feel if I found out I made things harder for you when maybe a little foresight might have saved you some discomfort? I want to take care of you Sherlock, I want that. I don’t think you’re weak or defective or anything negative. I think you’re amazing. Fantastic. Just perfect.”

"I'm not actually gluten or lactose intolerant but I have found that a diet high in protein and high in simple carbohydrates works best for me. Gluten tends to cause me inflamed bowels and lactose causes me to be sluggish. I have to have glucose constantly. If I go without I get an acute attack," Sherlock told him.

“So sweet tea and biscuits?” said John with a smile. “Whatever you need Sherlock, that’s what I’ll do. You let me know what you like or don’t like, what you prefer and I’ll try to make that happen. Now I am worried about you because you’ve been unwell. We’re home now and I want you to be able to recuperate. Come on love, let’s go have a bath.” John knew Sherlock needed to unwind and relax but he didn’t want to resort to sex. Sherlock was exhausted and as much as he would enjoy a loving round it would be better if John just let him rebuild his internal reserves. A bath would give them the intimacy Sherlock was instinctively craving.

"You will bathe with me?" Sherlock asked. "I think we will fit in the tub. It is the old fashioned sort that is very deep and long. Not very water conservative."

“Well then we’ll have to do our best to make up for that right? In you get love, I’ll sit behind you, alright?” John helped Sherlock undress, hanging his snug suit up on the hook of the bathroom door. He didn’t let Sherlock bend over, instead kneeling himself to remove Sherlock’s socks and help him out of his trousers and pants. John kept his attentions up until Sherlock was stripped bare and sitting in a deep tub of almost overly warm water. John undressed deftly, neatly folding his things and setting them in a pile on the counter by the sink. Sherlock bent his long legs and scooted ahead so John could tuck in behind him, laying back as soon as the Alpha was settled, “There you go my love, just close your eyes and relax yourself one bit at a time.”

"I wonder if you will be so solicitous in a years time?" Sherlock asked teasingly.

“You’ll be sick of it by then, probably pushing me away and telling me to just leave you alone already. I’ll fuss over you so much you’ll be wishing you hadn’t bonded so quickly.” teased John in return. He delicately kissed around the still sore bond-bite. Sherlock smelled delicious, even ill as he was. John knew that the love he felt was true and that it would only grow deeper and more complex with time.

"I am sorry for not telling you. I am sorry for tricking you into bonding with me before you found out," Sherlock said and lifted John's hand to his lips. "I just could not face losing you. I have never felt this way before. I had no idea what it would feel like. It is far better than cocaine."

“You didn’t trick me love. I wanted to bond with you. Your health didn’t matter. It feels right being with you Sherlock. You make me happy and we barely know one another. Your life is incredible and I’m honored you want to share it with me. I’m in a far better place now that I could have managed on my own and it’s humbling to know that you were willing to accept me despite my inability to support you on my own. It’s shameful but you still agreed to bond and I’ll never take that lightly. You are already my everything.” John kissed the back of Sherlock’s head tenderly as he finished speaking.

"John, the money is of no consequence. I have plenty. Besides I have a job on Monday which will surely pay enough to keep us in basic needs for the rest of this year. It is my job to provide the money and yours to provide the care. Your financial position was never a concern for me," Sherlock said and tilted his head for John to have more access and moaned slightly.

“A job? What job?” Sherlock and John still needed time alone together to solidify their bond, and to allow Sherlock to heal completely. John knew that keeping Sherlock occupied had it’s own advantages though but he still wasn’t willing to risk the well-being of his Omega if the job was something arduous. It still prickled his pride to be a kept man but he decided that if he’d had a traditional marriage he wouldn’t have expected Sherlock to pay for anything either, it normally would have been John’s place to do so and he never would have pushed his Omega to secure income. Their relationship was unique in so many ways it was going to be a challenge for John to navigate the uncharted waters of their interactions. He continued to kiss Sherlock’s head softly, rubbing his hands up and down Sherlock’s arms to sooth him.

"Yes, I went to school with a banker who works for the Shand Bank. He texted me over a security problem. I don't expect it to be too much of a problem. I told him I was in Wales and that I would take care of it when I returned," Sherlock replied.

“Alright love, Monday then. I’d like to take the rest of the weekend for just us if that’s alright.” John didn’t want to push Sherlock too hard, he didn’t know how comfortable the man was with so much closeness over a long period of time. John was very content to be with Sherlock as much as his Omega allowed but he knew it wasn’t healthy for both of them to be only with one another. Eventually they’d need to sort out time to indulge themselves in their own hobbies and interests. That was for much later though, for now John wanted nothing more than to continue to convince Sherlock that he was adored and loved entirely.

Sherlock took the sponge and tipped a liberal amount of shower gel onto it before starting to wash John's arms. "I can't reach the rest of you," he said. He was careful keeping his shoulder out of the water.

John felt a surge of affection for his Omega who was allowing himself to respond to his instinct to serve his Alpha. It showed great trust that Sherlock felt John deserved such attentions. Shifting carefully John pulled Sherlock onto his lap. The taller man loomed over John but still managed to drape himself decorously over John’s good shoulder, lazily swiping his exposed skin with the sponge. John enjoyed the erratic bath he was being given, Sherlock’s fingers were long and narrow, clever and able to dance over wide expanses of John’s ribs and arm.

Long arms made him able to reach John's back and the scent of sandalwood filled the air. "This is as close to petrichor that I could get. It should be your scent from now on. It is you, completely," Sherlock told him "and I want to bath in your scent. I want the world to know I am yours."

"Petrichor, that's the smell of the earth in the rain, isn't it?" John asked. 

"Actually the scent that rises in the water molecules splashing up when the rain hits dry soil," Sherlock told him. "It is a very particular scent. To me it will always be the scent of love."

John was filled with warmth and happiness as he listened to Sherlock. He’d been told that Sherlock wasn’t partial to sentimentality and that he would never bond but here they were. Sherlock seemed very willing and John was suddenly grateful that he’d checked out Matchmakers and that he’d been given to this marvelous man in his arms. John pressed his nose to the back of Sherlock’s neck and inhaled their combined scents. “You’ll smell like me until all our days run out. Promise.”

Sherlock turned and kissed John gently. "You make me almost believe in miracles," Sherlock whispered. "But I think I will just believe in chemistry instead."

“Well love is chemical so I’m completely fine with that.” said John reasonably. He understood that Sherlock was a man of science but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel. It would make little moments like this that much more special because John would know it was sincere enjoyment that kept Sherlock with him. If Sherlock had not liked John or felt comfortable with him the Omega would never have allowed John to bond, no matter how intense his heat got. Look at Alpha Irene. She had been with Sherlock for years and they hadn’t even achieved intercourse. Well, John was fine with that too. No other Alpha would ever be allowed to have HIS Sherlock. Not ever.

"Shall we go to bed?" Sherlock asked. "I am so tired. I think if you weren't in this bath with me I might fall asleep and drown."

“Well you’d never fit down the drain so let’s not let that happen. Come on love, up, slow and careful.” John got himself out quickly and braced Sherlock as the taller man stepped easily out of the tub. Fussing terribly John toweled Sherlock off before himself as the Omega stood there, simply accepting all of John’s care as if it were his due. John didn’t mind. He rather enjoyed it actually. 

Swiping himself with a towel he turned to get Sherlock’s robe when he felt a towel gently dabbing between his shoulder-blades and a warm press of lips on the nape of his neck. “I can’t neglect the most wonderful Alpha alive, can I. Take me to bed John. I’m so tired.”

Sherlock spread himself out on the bed not hiding the fact that he was displaying himself for John. He had a wicked look on his face. "Maybe not all that tired..." he said.

John wanted him too and playfully lay on Sherlock’s back to nip and kiss him, “You’re ill my beautiful man. You need to rest, a lot. I want this, I really do, but tonight, well tonight you need to sleep.” John wasn’t giving Sherlock an option. He kissed his mate one more time then arranged them so Sherlock was cuddled to John’s side, his curly head on John’s shoulder. The Alpha stroked his Omega’s back tenderly and felt the heat of his still faintly feverish forehead. “Rest Sherlock. I’ll be with you.”

Sherlock was asleep so quickly that John barely had time to realize that he was falling asleep. Sherlock had to have been exhausted but still wanting to please John. A long arm was draped across John's chest and a leg managed to slide over his.

John kissed his mate tenderly one last time. John knew that even without the bond he had already been falling in love with Sherlock. He was very nearly certain that Sherlock was returning his feelings but needed time to work all that out inside himself. This week had been a lot but John was grateful they’d made it through together. Closing his eyes John allowed himself to follow his Omega into slumber.


	18. Considerations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock are finally home and able to relax with one another.

John wondered if he had bonded to a five year old when he was woken by Sherlock jumping on the bed. He was wearing pajama pants and a silk robe. His eyes had changed color to match the robe. He put a game board down and waited for John. "You must have played this at some time since you are a doctor," Sherlock said. 

"And a good morning to you, too," he said as he sat up.

John eyed the game in Sherlock’s eager hands, “Operation? Seriously?”

"It is good for eye hand co-ordination and concentration. Mycroft and I play it without looking," Sherlock replied.

“Do I get tea first or can I at least use the facilities?” John smiled over at Sherlock who was clearly ready to play that instant.

"Tea?" Sherlock froze, thinking. "Yeah. I can make tea."

“You don’t need to make it for me gorgeous, I just want some. Come along Sherlock, bring the game. We can play in the kitchen. Just let me put the kettle on and give me a couple of minutes in the bathroom. John kissed Sherlock affectionately, pleased with his need to play.

There was a crash in the kitchen while John was in the bathroom and when he returned he discovered that Sherlock had cleared the table, mostly on to the floor.

“Hey! Not necessary! Wait Sherlock, just give me a second alright? I can have this all cleared away in a jiffy.” John soothed his excited Omega, picking up the detritus with haste while their tea steeped. Sherlock was practically champing at the bit to play and was tapping his foot impatiently.

Sherlock ignored the tea and took first go at the game, but his hands were shaking and he cursed when the buzzer sounded to tell them that he had failed.

John suddenly realized Sherlock wasn’t excited. He was beginning to experience the more negative effects of his cocaine withdrawal. John pushed Sherlock’s tea closer, “I’m having some toast love, would you like some jammy toast?” and wiggled a jar of jam enticingly at his mate.

"I need some, John. Get me some."

Deliberately misunderstanding, “One order of jammy toast coming right up.” he exclaimed cheerfully.

Sherlock hit the table. "You're an idiot!"

“I know darling. I’m sorry. Toast?” John got up to make the toast, letting his Omega steam blatantly behind him.

Sherlock got up and started walking on the furniture, literally on the furniture. He stopped perched like a gargoyle on the back of the couch.

John was impressed with Sherlock’s ability to balance, he seemed to fold himself up easily as well and seemed perfectly at his ease even in his misery, “Toast is ready! I’ve got fresh tea too.” chirped John cheerfully, ignoring the dissatisfied grunt he heard from his Omega.

But Sherlock came to get a piece of toast and seemed happy with the jam, wiping it with his finger and licking his finger. He put the toast in his mouth and then lifted both cup and saucer before realizing he couldn't drink with a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth.

John said nothing as Sherlock extracted the toast and drank his tea. John had put an unseemly amount of sugar in it and Sherlock hummed his approval. John ate his toast without comment.

"It's your turn," Sherlock nodded towards the game.

John used his less dominant hand to extract the funny bone without trouble. Sipping his tea he nibbled another bit of toast and waited for Sherlock to have his turn.

Sherlock went for the heart and pulled it out cleanly he put it in front of John.

John picked it up, gave it a quick kiss and then took his turn. Maneuvering carefully he extracted the writer’s cramp and gave Sherlock a quick grin.

Sherlock grabbed another piece of toast with one hand and John's wrist with the other. John could barely get to his feet quickly enough as Sherlock dragged him back to the bed.

“Sherlock?” John was almost falling over himself at the speed with which Sherlock yanked him along.

Sherlock climbed onto the bed dragging John along with him. "Do that thing you did last night with my hair," he asked with puppy dog eyes as he snuggled into John's side.

John smiled to himself as his Sherlock curled up tight to his side. Carding his fingers carefully through Sherlock’s curls John rubbed his Omega’s head, “Like that?”

Sherlock moaned. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

“Why are you sorry love?” asked John gently. He held Sherlock as best he could, running his hand steadily through his curls, scratching here and there at random.

"I am a pain. I am selfish and inconsiderate and needy," Sherlock told him.

“You are suffering willingly to get better and I’m so proud of you. I’m thankful you want me with you and I swear I’m willing to do absolutely anything you require to keep you as comfortable and happy as possible.” John began to radiate his natural Alpha protectiveness, holding his Omega tenderly and allowing Sherlock to be washed in the sensation of being completely adored and wanted.

After awhile Sherlock began to sing. It was very quiet at first but when John didn't comment he got a bit louder, just enough for John to hear properly. Sherlock's voice was magic. He wasn't a brilliant singer but his tonal range was great and his accent would melt anyone. It took a moment to realize that he was singing in French.

John closed his eyes and took it in. Sherlock’s voice was deep yet soft, each word clear if unknown to John who only spoke a few words of Pasha, a couple of Russian phrases, and a smattering of Hindi. 

Sherlock got quieter again and then stopped. His even breathing told John that he had fallen asleep.

John lay there holding Sherlock and worrying a bit. There were a lot of obstacles between Sherlock and wellness. John needed to read up on addictions and withdrawals as well as potential complications from extended use of suppressants. He wondered why it had taken so long for the Holmes family to find an Alpha willing to help Sherlock properly but was also so grateful that it was him that got to do so.

It was after lunch which Mrs. Hudson delivered to them, that they had a visitor. "Hi, I'm Mary Morstan. Mrs. Holmes sent me. I'm the wedding planner."

John shook her hand. She was a pleasant looking lady with brightly colored blond hair, a warm smile and twinkling eyes. John felt comfortable around her but was a little uncertain how to proceed. “I’m John, this is my Omega Sherlock.”

"Oh, you are not going to constantly introduce me as your Omega Sherlock. That just won't do, John," he told John and then turned to Mary. "Hello, I'm Sherlock. How does one go about planning a wedding? I am sure that Mother has already decided much of it." 

"Actually," Mary smiled pleasantly. "Mrs. Holmes wanted you to have say over everything."

John felt terrible about how he had introduced Sherlock. He’d done it without thinking, proving that he was as conditioned as Jeremy in some ways. “I’d like to have the kind of wedding Sherlock would be happy with. Sherlock, how would you like to get married?”

A smile literally grew across Sherlock's face. "An Omega usually only gets married once and though it is usually their first Alpha that they marry, I was not married to The Woman. My family is not religious but my father is. Neither Mycroft nor Sherrinford have married. So I would like to be married in the church at Llanrwst and have the reception at the castle. Of course the honeymoon is traditionally the Alpha's choice," Sherlock said.

“Well that sounds perfect to me Sherlock, let’s do that. I have no idea where to honeymoon. It hadn’t even occurred to me to think of it I suppose.” John wasn’t a vacationer. He’d traveled with the army of course but in no way was that a vacation. Even the leaves he had enjoyed had been specifically about blowing off steam and getting rid of the kinds of tension that could get a body killed in the field of battle. Most certainly NOT a vacation.

“Me either John. Still, if my family is going to pay for a sex holiday we may as well pick someplace interesting.” Sherlock was flippant about the intent of a honeymoon and John flushed, acutely aware that there was a strange woman listening to their conversation. Sherlock noticed his reaction, “Bit not good?” he asked softly, sounding confused.

“A bit, yeah.” said John but smiled reassuringly to his mate to show he wasn’t distress, just a bit flustered. “We’ll talk about the honeymoon and get back to your mum about it. The wedding though, I don’t really have guests to invite.” John had a sister he disliked and some distant relations. That was it for family. He had some army friends but most of them were on tour in various parts of the world. John suddenly realized how very alone in the world he was. He hadn’t felt like that when he was still in the army and hadn’t been out long enough to allow the concept to truly sink in.

"You surely have army buddies? Soldiers go in for that sort of thing, don't they? And then there is Lestrade. I can't see Mommy approving him as one of my family's guests, so he will have to be on your list."

"If it helps any, when two men marry there isn't usually the division at the ceremony so it won't be your side of the church full and Dr Watson's empty," Mary said.

"Stamford and Molly, I am sure they would like to be invited, and people you went to Bart's with, before you joined the Army." They had moved to the dining table and Mary had quietly set up her laptop.

“Well I don’t mind inviting Greg, and okay, Mike. Molly for sure. I have a couple of good friends that I’d like to at least tell but I can’t be sure they’re available to come to a wedding on short notice. Your mum seems to want us to get right on this.” John felt a bit strange about having so few close friends. He was friendly with everyone but in a passing-them-by sort of way. John was always on the move normally, living in one place with Sherlock would be an adjustment.

"Why short notice? Is three months short notice?" Sherlock asked. "Besides who would pass up a free holiday. Mycroft will pay for everyone. You really must get over this money thing. Your allowance is yours, John. No one expects you to pay for me. I am well provided for in the family trust. Mary, I am certain Mommy has given you a base figure for the wedding. Please tell John." 

"She asked me to keep it under 1 million pound," Mary replied.

John was completely staggered. He had no idea what kind of wealth his mate’s family commanded. A million pounds for a single event? “Well I’ll ask everyone, certainly. All I’m saying is when a soldier is in a military action they can’t always make side-trips home for weddings, even if the expenses are all paid. All I can do is tell them when it is and begin there.”

"Well, I am sure that Mycroft will do what he can to fly them in for a weekend's leave, and I am sure that the ladies will love a few men in uniform," Sherlock said. "Mrs. Holmes didn't mention a third son, Sherrinford, you said," Mary asked. 

"Sherrinford won't be at the wedding. I don't think they will let him out," Sherlock said.

John was burning with curiosity about the mysterious Sherrinford but he didn’t know Mary from a hole in the ground so he saved his questions for later. He deflected back to his own list first, “I can’t see needing more than a dozen invitations for myself. I’ll make a list up and see if I can dig out some addresses too. It’ll take a couple of days for some of them. Is that alright?” 

"Then that takes us to the invitations. I have a sample both traditional and modern invitations. Why don't you take a look and see if there are any that you both like?" Mary brought up a page on her laptop.

John stared at the screen. There were lots of options, none of which made any difference to him. He wondered what his friends would think of receiving such posh invitations. Each one involved an entire set of parts as well as script styles, paper options, color options, environmental options, in fact, it was already overwhelming and there were pages and pages of samples to look at. John gave a rather pleading glance in Sherlock’s direction. “Well love?”

"This one." It was off white with a simple border and traditional cursive script. "I want John's Army crest on the front.”

John was incredibly pleased with the suggestion and shot his mate a questioning look, “Are you sure love? Your family crest is very impressive.”

Sherlock lent over and kissed John's cheek lightly. "But after the wedding I will be your family," Sherlock said. "My family can't ignore your rights as Alpha completely, John."

“Well I do look rather smart in my dress uniform.” teased John.

Sherlock gave him a crocked grin. "Are you permitted to wear it now that you are retired?"

“For particular formal events, yes I am. Getting married qualifies.” said John with a cheeky grin. He enjoyed the flush on his mate’s cheeks and Sherlock obviously envisioned John dressed as a soldier.

"Perhaps we should leave it at that for the first meeting. Here is a program for your computer that will help you work out some of the details. It will be helpful if you can fill it in a bit before we meet again," Mary smiled as she handed John a memory stick.

It was labeled. "A.G.R.A? What's that?" he mused out loud.

"It's an old memory stick," she replied. Sherlock was sitting with his feet up on his chair with his fingers steepled in front of his mouth, thinking. Mary had been gone an hour and Sherlock had been sitting like this for the entire time. 

"You should ask her out," he said suddenly.

“Um. What? Why? NO! Absolutely not. Why in the world would you ask me to do that Sherlock? We’re mated, bonded, and about to get married. You can’t get more committed than that! Why would I ask our wedding planner out?” John was outraged and a bit hurt. Was Sherlock already trying to displace him? Now that the bonding was over was Sherlock already trying to get John out of the way?

"You like her,' Sherlock said. "She is unmarried. She is not objectionable. The odds are that I will not conceive, John. She's a Beta not an Omega. You would not bond with her and therefore my jealousy would be minimized. You have limited opportunity to meet women. She however has ample. You should ask her out before she finds a new boyfriend."

John was devastated with Sherlock’s announcement of his likely infertility. John knew in the back of his head it was extremely likely that Sherlock would be unable to conceive. You just couldn’t take suppressants for as long as he had and expect to get away without consequences. John wanted Sherlock to have his baby very much though and the thought of getting another person with child instead made him feel anxious and not immediately inclined. “That’s a lot to take in Sherlock. We just bonded, your bite hasn’t even healed all the way yet. We haven’t even made it through a whole heat properly. Can we table me looking for a viable womb for a little while at least?”

Sherlock was standing in front of John so fast that John nearly fell over. He needed all his army training to just stand there. Sherlock cupped John's face in his hands and kissed him passionately. "I am so lucky," Sherlock whispered. "I don't deserve you."

“Well I certainly don’t deserve to have a mate who is brilliant, gorgeous, and rich to boot! Here we are though, and I’m very happy to be with you. I’m grateful you even like me.” John was amazed that Sherlock put up with him. By comparison John was boring and simple, uneducated and raw material at best. He wasn’t even a diamond in the rough. John might go so far as to compare himself to a semi-precious stone, maybe jade – interesting but fairly common. That would be a best case scenario. Compared to Sherlock John was as plain as any garden variety stone. “I don’t want to be with anyone else, not unless I absolutely had to. I guess it’s sort of nice that you’re willing to vet them first if it comes down to me finding another lover. Right now though, it’s really the furthest thing from my mind.”

"What is on your mind?" Sherlock asked. "I hope it is the same thing on mine."

“I don’t know.” said John with a small smile, “What’s on my mind is pretty constant these days. You Sherlock, you’re on my mind.” John felt so many things for the incredible man in front of him. Despair that they might have to struggle to conceive, pride because Sherlock was considering John’s happiness despite the misery it was guaranteed to cause the Omega, desire because no one stimulated John in so many ways simultaneously as Sherlock Holmes did.

"Can we go to bed?" Sherlock asked. "And I don't mean to sleep," he added. "Now that I am not foggy with heat, I would like us to get to know each other better."


	19. Knowing One Another Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is interested in being with John for more than just conversation.

John was very interested in getting to know Sherlock better. The more he knew about his wonderful mate the better! With a crooked grin John pulled Sherlock in for a kiss, "Want to take a shower first?"

"Alright, but no sex in the shower. It is a bit cramped," Sherlock said. "That can wait until I am more proficient at sexual relations." They went to Sherlock's room and slowly and carefully undressed each other. Sherlock's long fingers explored the bare flesh as it was exposed.

John found everything about Sherlock to be absolutely gorgeous and felt himself experience a degree of self-consciousness that hadn’t really troubled him yet. Sherlock’s gaze was intense, John felt more naked than the lack of clothing could explain as his mate’s eyes seemed to bore right through him.

"What size bullet?" Sherlock asked suddenly as he examined John's shoulder, back and front.

John just looked at Sherlock, "I was hit by a sniper. I don't remember much. I was unconscious for a long time. They didn't keep the bullet for me; there were too many wounded soldiers that day for anyone to bother." John didn't mention that he'd died a couple or three times while they patched him up.

"It nearly killed you. It got infected by the look of it. So close to death," Sherlock ducked his head to plant a gently kiss on the scar. "I'm glad you didn't."

"You and me both Sherlock." No one had ever kissed John's scar before. The ease with which Sherlock had pressed his perfect lips to the hideous mar made John's heart twang. How marvelous this man was to find beauty in something so grotesque.

John was quickly learning that what might be an insult by anyone one else was simply an observation by Sherlock. His lips moved along John's shoulder and found the sensitive spot of the Alpha's pheromone gland. Sherlock moaned, "Petrichor. My John."

John felt a rush similar to the onset of an Alpha reaction to heat from his mate when Sherlock’s voice triggered all sorts of reactions in him. John felt possessive, he wanted to cover Sherlock in his scent, mark him every way possible to that no Alpha could deny that Sherlock belonged solely to John. Deliberately John leaned in and licked gently at the mostly healed bond-bite on Sherlock’s neck.

Sherlock moaned. John remembered that Sherlock had been taught to associate pain with pleasure so John could not know which Sherlock was feeling until Sherlock's hand guided John's hand to his quickly growing erection.

John smiled against Sherlock’s skin and continued his caresses, keeping everything simple and gentle at first. He wanted Sherlock to experience the tender rise to passion instead of the harsh lust brought on by his heat. Slowly John ran one hand down Sherlock’s spine and cupped a single generous cheek. Tilting his head up John mouthed his way along Sherlock’s jaw until he could gently suck on his earlobe, biting it ever so gently before letting it go.

Sherlock's breathing was stuttering. He was almost shaking with the sensations which he had never felt before. His long sensitive fingers were exploring as if mapping John now that he was free to touch as he wanted where he wanted. He found every scar, explored it, and worshiped it as if John had suffered them just for Sherlock. Suddenly, Sherlock held John at arms-length and he gulped in air, trying to catch his breath as if he had run hard and long. "It's not just your pheromones," Sherlock said. "It's you. All of you, everything about you."

John was filled with love, desire, happiness and almost pain at the intensity of it all. He wanted nothing but good things for his lover, wanted to bring Sherlock the pleasure he had been denied for so long. “That makes me happy love, I want to be special to you, I want to matter to you. I want to make you happy.”

"I want you to be happy, John, and it isn't just because of the pheromones. Why have I never felt like this before? Sex has never really interested me before. Not like this. Not in a personal way. It was all just research for my work. But..." Sherlock shook his head slightly at John and John could see that he was trying to figure it out and it just wasn't happening.

John couldn’t stop smiling. He grinned up at Sherlock, “Remember that four letter word I wanted you to say to me before I signed the contract? This is what I meant, I think that’s why you want me to be happy. I’m hoping you feel that way about me because I certainly feel that way about you.”

"I love my parents and this feels nothing like that," Sherlock said confused.

“Love between lovers doesn’t feel the same as love between families. It’s a very different thing but there are some similarities. I love you. I feel happier when I’m close to you, it makes me feel good knowing I’ve done something that makes you feel better, or something I know you like. I want to keep you happy and I don’t even care if it’s hard on me. You come first. I want my children to be your children and I want your life to be our life, to share our lives as much as possible for as long as possible. I feel love so I want everyone to know how amazing you are because I’m proud of you, and I want everyone to know that I am capable of keeping you happy because of love.” John wasn’t sure if he was explaining it in a way that Sherlock understood.

"So there is a chemical reaction in my brain caused by your nearness and my thoughts of you which make me feel this? When you smile, especially when you smile at me, I feel happy."

John was the one still smiling because Sherlock looked very confused, “Yes Sherlock, it’s a chemical reaction similar to when you go into heat but this will last more than a few days. If I’m very very lucky, it will last our entire lives. At least, I know my feelings will. I can only hope to keep you happy enough that you keep feeling love for me.”

"I can't promise that, John. But I will try," Sherlock promised. He looked down to see that John was still erect. "May I taste you?" he asked.

John had to close his eyes to collect himself. He nodded his head gently, “No teeth.” he teased.

"That will be difficult since they are my own. I am unwilling to rip my teeth out for the privilege of tasting you," Sherlock replied but he knelt down in front of John and tentatively lent forward to flick his tongue against his hot flesh very quickly. Sherlock made a face. "I was not expecting that. The literature makes it sound much more...pleasant."

“It’s a bit of an acquired taste. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” John didn’t want to disgust his Omega. He rather enjoyed being tasted but if Sherlock found it displeasing then John wasn’t going to make him do it. He wasn’t going to be that sort of Alpha. In fact, John was going to ignore their secondary genders as much as possible. Sherlock was a fascinating man and deserved to be appreciated as his entire self, and not just one aspect of his being.

John nearly collapsed at the knees when Sherlock suddenly took him into his mouth almost completely and sucked gently. His tongue moved around John's cock as aptly as his fingers had explored his chest earlier.

There was a lot to be said in favor of being mated to a man of science. Sherlock’s technique was inquisitive, detailed, ever-changing, and John knew that he had never received attentions of this caliber ever! Sherlock seemed to be testing all the variables he could think of one at a time and very soon it was everything John could do to hold himself back. Almost stuttering as he panted John carded anxious fingers through his mate’s hair, “Sherlock!”

"Don't hold back, John," Sherlock said without removing John from his mouth so it came out as a muffled garbled series of grunts but it was pretty clear when Sherlock grabbed John's hips and held him there.

The vibration was more than John could deal with as the words his mate spoke cause him to tip helplessly over the edge. John’s head fell back and his hips thrust forward as he almost shouted out his release. Gripping Sherlock’s curls but trying not to pull John struggled to stay upright as the delicious orgasm he’d been given made him quiver from head to toe.

Sherlock lowered him gently onto the bed after swallowing his cum and crawled up the bed to stretch out beside him. "A bit good?" he asked.

John had to take a second to catch his breath, “Very good. The best in fact.” John was buzzing from head to toe. He pulled Sherlock closer, kissing his mate and liking the taste of himself on Sherlock’s lips.

"You taste awful," Sherlock said with a big grin.

John just lay there and smiled, “I tried to warn you. You wouldn’t listen. Give me a second and I’ll return the favor.”

"Later. I just want to enjoy success," Sherlock replied and snuggled into John.

“Well your success isn’t complete until I’m happy and I won’t be happy if you don’t let me return the favor. I want to, if you’ll let me.” John did want to. Giving Sherlock pleasure was very rewarding for John, it made him feel content.

"Give it a few minutes. I'm in sensory overload," Sherlock told him and planted a gently kiss on his nipple.

John waited as patiently as he could, but even as satisfied as he felt John wanted to spend some time bringing Sherlock enjoyment. Eventually he settled for stroking his fingers through Sherlock’s curls.

"This stuff doesn't rot your teeth does it?" Sherlock suddenly asked.

“I’m pretty sure your teeth are safe.” said John solemnly. 

Sherlock lifted his head and smiled down at John before kissing him lightly. "Just thought I should consult my doctor."

“Well ask me anything, I’m at your disposal.” John returned Sherlock’s light kiss hopefully, he was still very interested in pleasuring his mate, in fact, the satisfaction he had experienced was once again turning into desire.

"Does an Omega self-lubricate enough to have sex without added lube when the Omega is not in heat?" Sherlock asked. "For I much desire to make use of that." He glanced down John's body and the cock twitching with arousal.

“Yes but it increases dramatically during heat to accommodate for the intensity of the rut. We’d be chafed raw after the first knotting if you didn’t.” John was very pleased to see Sherlock’s interest become blatant.

"But can you knot if I am not in heat?" he asked.

"No, normally an Alpha only knots during the heat to ensure conception and to prevent other Alphas from trying to take you. It doesn't happen often but it still occurs, even today." John would destroy any Alpha that tried to take his Sherlock from him. Even if they weren't bonded John would have fought to his last breath for Sherlock.

Sherlock looked disappointed. "I would have liked to enjoy the sensation with a clear head." He then blushed at his own bad pun.

“It’s not impossible, just unusual. I can’t say I’d hate the idea of giving it a good go.” John was always ready for a challenge.

"But it is not something you can control, like when a heat hits an Omega. Some people think that it happens with perfect timing but I am sure as a doctor you know that isn't true. And since our heats seem to be both subjective and linked to the seasons it is not predictable." Sherlock's hand was dancing across John's lower abdomen getting lower and lower.

“The Alpha knot can only be stimulated by an omega, preferably one in heat. It can be manually achieved though, as a doctor I’ve of course had to cover this kind of material during my training.”

"Were there Omegas in the Army?" Sherlock asked.

“Yes, lots now. Military suppressants aren’t like the ones you get in the civilian world. In the field we’re all just soldiers with different skill sets. There are problems, of course there are, but no more than there was before Omegas were allowed to serve.” John had learned a lot about gender-respect in the military. You couldn’t keep your team safe if you were focused on only one or two of them. You helped everyone without favor.

"So you weren't at all tempted?" Sherlock asked. "Or were you strictly a ladies man. 'Three Continent's Watson'?"

“I’ve never been with a man before. I suppose I’ve just never met a man who interested me enough to try.” there was no shame in that. Sherlock hadn’t had sex with anyone at all regardless of gender and John didn’t hold that against him. “I generally avoided Omegas unless they understood I wasn’t interested in bonding or doing more than helping with planned heats. Omegas are allowed to go off suppressants once a year. It’s not too difficult to find an Alpha to help them, but it’s all pre-arranged and approved through the Omega. If bonding occurs then the mates are always shipped together after that but their heats have to be taken twice a year.”

Sherlock claimed his lips as his hand wrapped around John's shaft. Somehow, Sherlock had become an expert in both or John was just too in love to notice that he wasn't.

“Lay back beautiful, let me.” whispered John. It was becoming harder and harder to wait for Sherlock to just let John do this. John wanted to see Sherlock fall to pieces because of him. John couldn’t wait for his mate to accept and agree.

Sherlock lay back on the large bed and let John do as he pleased. "Yours," he told John.

“Mine.” agreed John as he began to kiss his way over Sherlock. John made love to Sherlock slowly, allowing the man to take in every caress, to build an appreciation for each and every thing that John was able to do to him. The fever that they felt had nothing to do with heat and everything to do with the natural chemistry between them.

Sherlock was his most beautiful as he lay there boneless with a shimmering of sweat coating his body when John had finished with him. His hair was curlier than normal and the mop of it stood out stark against the pale pillowslip. "I...asdfjkl..." he coughed. Then tried again. "I need a cigarette."

“I thought people only did that in the movies.” said John wearily. He was completely contented now. His Omega smelled satisfied and happy, the urge to dote on Sherlock not abating even though their bond had been firmly established. John’s urges like this should be diminishing, not increasing. He caved against his desire to lecture his lover, “Just one, outside though, if you don’t mind.”

"I shall reserve it until I can move, if you don't mind," Sherlock replied.

“Whenever you’re ready love.” John rolled himself closer to Sherlock, cuddling the longer man to him and stroking his back softly. John was thinking about Sherlock’s request to be knotted out of heat. It would require preparation and John would need to teach Sherlock a couple of techniques that would stimulate John’s knot into hardening.

"John, are you pleased with me? Or am I projecting my pleasure onto you?" Sherlock asked.

“I am very pleased with you, how could I not be? You’re amazing. I’m very pleased to make you feel pleasure.” John was indeed very content.

"I have never wished to have children before but I think having your child would be interesting. I'm sure that Mycroft will provide for a nanny as I have no skills with children," Sherlock told him. "We will certainly enjoy practicing making one."

John could have burst with happiness as his mate spoke so eagerly of children! John’s heart was one hundred percent invested in seeking Sherlock’s happiness and thereby his own, children would be the perfect culmination of their love. “I’m willing to practice as often and in as many ways as you like.” he smiled at Sherlock. “I’m betting you’ll be more skilled with your own children than you give yourself credit for. You’re a very intelligent man, you’d figure something out.”

"Of course I will and you will be an excellent father with a little direction from me on their education. But in the meantime, you must be my guide on how to become well enough to conceive and carry full term," Sherlock replied.

John held Sherlock tight and pressed a kiss onto his forehead, “We’ll do whatever it takes love, we’ll figure it all out, together. I know some places to start looking for information and we’ll speak to Mycroft about finding specialists if we need it. I’d like to wait for one more heat though before we begin to worry. In the meantime we’ll work on your diet and managing the withdrawal symptoms.”

That night, Sherlock complained of a headache and miscellaneous aches and pains and went to bed while John and Mrs. Hudson were watching a movie and complaining to Sherlock for his deductions. "It's no use, John. I have tried to explain that the writer's don't have his mind to work with but he never listens. He can see all the plot holes," Mrs. Hudson told him. They were both glad when Sherlock went to bed. He was asleep when John went to bed and didn't stir, but the next morning it was Sherlock's convulsions that woke him.

John didn’t hesitate. He called 999 instantly, removing anything dangerous from around his Omega. His mobile rang a minute later. It was Mycroft, “Call cancelled. Personal physician and team en route.” John cursed! How long would that take? Sherlock was seizing NOW!

"In the bedside table drawer, you will find a key; it opens the large draw in the bottom of Sherlock's wardrobe. Put him on a glucose drip while you wait for the team," Mycroft told him.

With speed John followed the instructions. Soon he had Sherlock taped, the glucose bag suspended from a clever attachment that clipped right to his bed. John watched his mate with rising anxiety.

The convulsions stopped but he was sweating profusely and was very pale.

John heard a polite rap at the front door and soon he was surrounded by Betas in medical uniforms. A plump elderly man attended, but looked for permission from John before laying hands on Sherlock.

Dr Moore finished his examination and rummaged in his bag. He handed him a bag of glucose sweets. "One before bed every night. Do not let him go more than 8 hours without eating. If his stool is not black tomorrow, ring me." He then handed John his card.

John was still worried but everyone left without a backward glance. Sherlock was sleeping peacefully now, the drip checked but not removed. John was to leave it for now and exchange it for another of Sherlock seemed to need it. John tucked himself close to his sleeping mate and fretted quietly.

Mrs. Hudson woke them at 10 with a tray of tea. "Mr. Holmes called," she told John. "Poor dear. He hasn't had a fit in so long. I see his dashing off to solve crimes and I forget that he is so ill."

“Does this happen often Mrs. Hudson? I want to be prepared, you understand.” John had his hand resting possessively on Sherlock’s shoulder, monitoring everything Sherlock ingested. He was trying not to smother his mate but John couldn’t help but fuss.

"About once every two or three years. Though I can often have several attacks in a cluster. I was not expecting this. I mistook the symptoms for cocaine withdrawal," Sherlock replied.


	20. Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John learns a disturbing truth.

DI Lestrade visited Sherlock at least once a week for the next, always bringing presents of chocolates, cake or sweets. John might have thought that he was trying to woo Sherlock away from him except that the detective was an Omega. The present that Sherlock was always most interested in was the work. This wasn't the sort of work which paid but that never interested Sherlock. Something to keep his mind interested was what he craved. The only other regular visitor to 221B was Mary who forged ahead on the wedding regardless of Sherlock's illness.

The wedding plans were tripping along smoothly with almost no real input from John though Sherlock had much to say. He seemed to get along with Mary, always encouraging John to be extra-nice to her. John was unfailingly polite to the woman but since he knew Sherlock had it in mind for Mary to be a potential child-carrier for John it made it difficult for him to relax around her.

Then one night, Mycroft came to pick up Sherlock but not John who had to deal with Mary on his own that night. A short time after Mary arrived so did a dinner that John had not ordered, thanks to Mycroft.

John was horribly uncomfortable but Mary looked so eager he served them both but sat as far from her at the table as he could get, “This is marvelous!” she cooed. “I don’t often get a chance at a proper hot meal.”

"I am useless at wedding planning and Sherlock knows it," John replied. 

"But, Sherlock doesn't think he can conceive and the Holmes family need an heir. So why are they throwing us together and Sherlock and me? I like him, but he really isn't my type," Mary said.

John looked at her, “No, you’re not his type either. Sherlock is gay.” Mary looked at John and she didn’t seem disheartened by the news. In fact, she seemed perfectly comfortable with the very obvious situation though John definitely was not.

 

"Am I your type?" she asked openly.

John took a good hard look at Mary. She wasn’t unattractive. If he’d been free and single he might have made a play for her. She was easy enough to talk to when John didn’t feel cornered by her, and her smile was actually very warm, “You might have been.” he hedged.

"It's in your contract that you can date and I obviously meet with the Holmes family approval so would you like to go out with me? Look, women really don't care about an Alpha having an Omega. It's part of our society. It's not like we know anything else. Besides, we don't have to get married. We could just go out, see each other without Sherlock around for a bit, or even with Sherlock around," Mary said.

“I’d actually prefer it if Sherlock were around. Listen Mary, you’re a very nice woman and I’m sure you have a lot of great qualities but I’m going to be honest with you. I’m in love with Sherlock and it’s not because we’re bonded, it’s because I actually love him. I’m not really interested in finding an alternative partner, but it seems like the family, including my fiancé wants it. I’m only interested in making Sherlock happy so if you seriously want to date me you’re going to have to date us, together. Not sex, especially with Sherlock. I’m warning you now. Hands off him. Completely. I’m not even joking.” John was deadly serious. He was incredibly possessive of Sherlock, even beyond what most Alphas seemed to feel for their Omegas. Mary could be Sherlock’s friend but if either of them wanted more than that then John had a real problem.

"You have been blankly honest with me so I will do the same with you. The day I took on the job as your wedding planner, they took a blood sample from me. Just a prick of my finger but it was very unusual request. I saw no harm in it because as a nurse I was able to give them a clean sample without any chance of me getting infected with anything. A week later, a woman showed up at my flat with a contract that she left with me to look over. It was the most surprising thing that has ever happened to me and believe me some strange shit has happened to me. The contract asked me to be surrogate for Sherlock's child. Well, not just surrogate. I would be it's mother and Sherlock would donate the sperm. It seems that the Holmes family are so desperate for an heir that they are covering all their bases. Why it wouldn't be Mycroft donating the sperm, I have no idea. But with the Holmes family you only know what they want you to know," Mary replied.

John was silent. The news was incredibly upsetting for him. Sherlock was planning to have a baby with this woman, to have their DNA combine to produce a being that had nothing whatsoever to do with John Hamish Watson. They’d planned all of it without a word to him, not asking how he felt about such a deed, or trusting him with any part of their plan. Suddenly John’s heart seemed to have developed a sharp ache and he felt betrayed. This woman in front of him was proposing something that John could barely wrap his head around. She was blatantly asking to commence an affair with him while seeking to become pregnant with Sherlock’s child. John felt sick and without a word pushed away from the table and left.

"You did WHAT?" Sherlock screamed at his brother getting the attention of the entire posh restaurant. 

"Calm down. I ensured that you would have a child, an heir and have John as well," Mycroft told him.

“MYCROFT YOU IDIOT! John is going to lose his mind when he figures this all out and he will!” Sherlock snatched up his mobile and called John instantly. There was no answer but Sherlock left a message. “John, whatever you learned I had NOTHING to do with it! NOTHING! Come get me John! I don’t want to be here anymore!” For good measure Sherlock texted his plea as well.

Sherlock waited outside the restaurant for 15 minutes with Mycroft beside him for ten of those minutes, nagging on at Sherlock about how he had intended it to be a favor to Sherlock, how if John would marry her it would make everything so much easier. Sherlock wasn't listening. He just wanted out of the rain and into John's arms. An unexpected right hook silenced Mycroft and Sherlock walked away from Mycroft sitting in a puddle in the street.

It was a long time before John registered that his pocket was buzzing. Still deeply upset he still couldn’t help himself as he checked his messages. The sheer volume of email from Sherlock was astounding but John only had to read the first one before he was calling his Omega back, “Sherlock, sweetheart where are you? I’m coming to get you. Tell me where you are!”

Sherlock gave his exact location and John could tell that Sherlock was crying from his voice. "Don't leave me, John. I didn't know what they were doing."

“Sherlock, love, I’m not leaving you. I swear I’m not. I was very upset. I had to get away from that woman. Sweetheart, don’t cry! I’m on my way. I’m catching a taxi right this second!” John was already climbing inside and shouting the address to the driver, “We’re moving, Sherlock! Honey? Don’t cry!”

"But she is already pregnant, John! The hotel sheets from the castle," Sherlock sobbed.

“Wait. What? What are you talking about? Who is pregnant? Who is pregnant with whose baby and where did this happen!” John was almost shouting into the phone. He’d be arriving at Sherlock’s location in just a minute.

But all John could hear from Sherlock's end was rain and sobbing. He was sitting on stone steps waiting for John. He was soaked through and John's couldn't tell the tears from the rain.

“Sherlock, sweetie, I’m here. I’m here love, come. Get up, get into the cab. Come along Sherlock, please? For me?” John was beside himself with anxiety. He didn’t know where to go or what to do so he was letting his instincts guide him and they were telling him to get his Omega out of the weather and to do something, anything, to calm Sherlock down. John kissed him.

Sherlock looked dazed but he followed John. Mary was gone and Mrs. Hudson was tidying up the kitchen when they got back. "Oh dear! Sherlock, are you alright?" She went into a panic when she saw her son.

“Tea Mrs. Hudson, we’ve both had a bit of a shock. I need to get him out of his wet things. Please Mrs. Hudson.” John took Sherlock to their room and stripped the silent man of his sodden clothing. “Sherlock, please Sherlock, tell me what happened. Please!” John was desperate to know the truth. He still felt ill, his entire body was in shock, he felt like he was ready to fall to pieces and only his concern for Sherlock gave him the ability to just set it all aside.

"Mycroft sent someone to collect our hotel sheets every morning and they isolated my sperm and impregnated Mary. Mycroft didn't trust that I could conceive after all those years on suppressants. He didn't even wait to find out. I know I pushed the two of you together but I was hoping that you would like her. There aren't many people that I could tolerate you being with and when I realized that she was one of them. Mycroft wants the Holmes heir to be a Holmes and he knew that I would not touch her."

Sherlock was nearly hysterical now and John was livid with rage! Mycroft had STOLEN from them! He had taken the child that should rightfully be THEIRS and given it to some woman they hadn’t even met yet! John’s Alpha nature had something to say though, “A child. You’re having a child with her. My Omega is having a baby with someone else. MY OMEGA!” John was furious. In a heartbeat he changed from the loving doting man he normally was and became a cold practical killer. He was going to hunt Mycroft down and END HIM for this sacrilege! Sherlock belonged to John, only John! Nothing of Sherlock’s could be anyone else's, not ever! Mycroft was a low-thief and Mary was no better. John’s voice was almost cold but he still tried to comfort his mate, “Shh darling, shh. I’ll fix it all. Shh my love. Shh. Stay with Mrs. Hudson. Lock yourself in. Now.”

Mrs. Hudson had made tea and now she was standing in the doorway stopping John from leaving. "Your first duty is to your Omega. You can have it out with Mycroft later. No matter what he has done, he is Sherlock's father. Sherlock loves him. You can't hurt him."

“Mycroft stole Sherlock’s sperm, knocked up our wedding planner and tried to set me up with her. He’s going to pay for that.” said John obstinately.

"He only copied what his grandparents did to him," she replied.

John stopped cold and just stared at her. Mrs. Hudson settled a tray filled with tea and biscuits into John’s hands, “Mycroft’s grandparents did this too? How? Why? Why not give us a chance, one full heat at least after the wedding? Why rush it and why do it like this? I…I….” John wanted to weep. He still felt so betrayed. He was heartsick that this child would not be his and no matter how much he loved his Sherlock, this child would never have one drop of John’s blood to help it on it’s way. John wanted to scream, to tear at something, to grieve the loss of something he hadn’t even had a chance to enjoy properly, Sherlock’s first born. Mary’s child.

"Take this to Sherlock and settle him in bed, then come back to the sitting room and I will answer all your questions," Mrs. Hudson said.

Numbly John did as he was told. He had to knock on their bedroom door since Sherlock had listened for once and had locked it tight, “Sherlock? Love, I’ve brought some tea. I have to have a talk with Mrs. Hudson, do you want to join us?”

John heard Sherlock rummaging about in the bedroom and then the door opened. He had his warmest dressing gown on and slippers which he never wore. "I would really prefer you to come to bed so I can hug you but, if there is information to be had..."

John set the tray down and took Sherlock into his arms. The anxiety ebbed away as they took in each other’s scent. Sherlock was as upset as John was, and his tears kept dripping down though he tried valiantly to stop them, “John. John I didn’t w...w…want this. I…I…I was going t…to..to have YOUR baby. Now it’s ruined! You’ll leave me. You don’t trust me. I can smell it on you. JOHN!” Sherlock began to cry for real again and John couldn’t bear it.

“No Sherlock. Never. No matter the reason, even if it kills me to stay, I’ll never leave you. I’m hurt, I’m truly hurt this happened but you didn’t do it. I’m not upset with you. I’m hurt because I wanted your first baby to be mine and I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. I wasn’t good enough for your family so they took steps. It’s my fault Sherlock.” John’s eyes were filling too and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself before looking back to Sherlock.

Sherlock took a deep breath and John knew that Sherlock was bringing out the detective to take over from the wreck that he was because of Mycroft's interference in their lives. "Mrs. Hudson is waiting." They took the tea tray and went to the sitting room. They sat on the couch with the tea tray on the coffee table and Mrs. Hudson sat on a hard dining chair on the other side. She served the tea and put a biscuit on Sherlock's saucer. 

"Mycroft was only 14 when he started an affair with another boy at school. His parents accepted that he was gay and that he would choose an Omega male to provide an heir but his grandparents were traditionalist. They insisted that he have an heir by a woman. So they arranged it." Mrs. Hudson stared sown into her cup. "I was housekeeper at their holiday home in St Ives when Mycroft came home for the holidays when he was 15."

John felt sick all over again. Not Mrs. Hudson! “What did they do to you?”


	21. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has been devastated by unwanted occurrences. Mrs. Hudson has promise them more information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief but we couldn't wait to post another minute.

Mrs. Hudson looked at both of them and said in a reassuring voice, "Nothing, John. I did it to myself. Mycroft was curious as all 15 year old boys are and I went willingly to his bed, especially as getting pregnant guaranteed me support for life. I was very poor and very happy to take on the position as housekeeper, but it was a temporary position and I had nothing to go to once the holidays finished. They were very good to me. They gave me a position as nanny to Sherlock so I got to raise him. While he was away at school, I met Angelo and we went to Florida."

“They triggered you somehow. Were you already going into heat? Why would the family accept this solution? What about Sherlock! Or me? Why buy me, keep me here, and then go and do this anyway?” There were a million questions but the soldier couldn’t settle himself enough to hear the answers. Jumping up John began to pace angrily back and forth while Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock watched him carefully. An angry Alpha was a dangerous creature and John was very angry. Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock were in no danger from him. Mycroft on the other hand, well, that man would have to do some pretty smooth talking to get John to cool down. No court in the land would penalize an Alpha for defending his Omega; Mycroft was at a definite disadvantage.

"I don't have heats. I'm a Beta. So is Mary," Mrs. Hudson said. 

"John, calm yourself. You are not thinking straight," Sherlock added. "Everyone knew that Mummy had two sons, but they didn't pay enough attention to realize that I was not the second. Sherrinford is the eldest and an Alpha. But the Holmes estate is old, very old. The process of heirs skips generations. But there is no Alpha in my generation. So if I don't have an Alpha child, the estate goes to Sherrinford. That is a strong motivation for Mycroft to do just about anything to ensure an Alpha child by me. It surprises me that he has waited this long, but I suppose he hoped to have another child himself or that I would find an Alpha. Even if I conceive there is no guarantee that the child will be an Alpha."

John took a long look at his Omega and allowed his anger to pack itself away neatly until he wasn’t furious anymore. In a way John could understand the desperation Mycroft had felt that led him to this but just because he empathized with the man didn’t mean he agreed with his methods. Sherlock still looked anxious and once again John’s need to look out for his mate over-rode his need to exact vengeance of some kind on those who had insulted them. “If this Sherrinford is the eldest Alpha why doesn’t he have the estate? What if Mycroft got married, what happens to his children then? What do we do about Mary!?” John struggled to retain his hard won calm.

"If Mycroft had an Alpha child then the family line is secure, but he hasn't yet. For him to depend on me for an Alpha child, I believe he has given up on having more children. If Sherrinford inherits all is lost. The estates are in Mommy's care at the moment, so only a lack of an Alpha child by either of her sons will put it into Sherrinford's hands. However it does allow for it to go to an Alpha child by me. Apparently, my ancestors worked out long ago that the estates being passed from father to son was putting the estates in the hands of old men who sons did all the work on the estates. Of course, the family does none of the work on the estates anymore. It is all under contract management. But the rule of inheritance still exists."

John thought hard over the information he had just been given. It seemed obvious to him that if Mycroft were truly desperate for an heir he would have found himself an appropriate Omega somewhere and pumped out babies until they hit the Alpha jackpot! “Okay, I sort of get that. I’m sorry but this all seems so wrong to me! How can Mycroft be sure that Mary is going to have an Alpha child? This is why he granted all my contract requests without arguing. He knew he would need some established good-will from me because he’d already planned to do this! Sherlock, how do you feel about all of this? I mean, I think this is huge, but I don’t want to assume anything. Darling?”

"You don't know what it is like to be an Omega, John. I have no say in any of this. My family have been very lenient with me. They have allowed me to live here unbonded. They could have married me off 20 years ago, without any consultation with me. What choice would I have had? Sign here or be put into an unwanted Omega House where any Alpha can walk in off the street and claim me? I have lived on the goodwill of my family up until now. If they cut off my allowance then I will be living on your goodwill, John," Sherlock pointed out.

John couldn’t bear the thought of Sherlock feeling beholden to him! His mate was a proud man, “You and I would be fine without your family’s help Sherlock. You’re brilliant as a detective; you could make a business out of it. I’m still a doctor; I could get a job at a hospital or clinic if I needed to. We’d have a good life, no matter what. It’s not right how the world treats Omegas. No one should to live with that kind of constant insecurity! How much misery could be prevented if people just treated Omega as they should, like they are just normal people like everyone else. Well, except you Sherlock, there’s no one like you.” John couldn’t help how fatuous he sounded by the end. His mate was incredible, simply incredible. John had never been as fascinated with another person as he was with Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson smiled at John. But Sherlock's smile had more to it. John knew how Sherlock looked when he was scheming and Sherlock's scheming was just as intricate as Mycroft's. He kissed Mrs. Hudson's cheek. "Be a dear and run along now. John and I have a lot to discuss. Thank you for the tea." Mrs. Hudson did as Sherlock bid, leaving Sherlock and John alone. "John, would you be open to a long term plan for us to turn this to our advantage and get revenge on my family without loss of the family estates? In fact how would you like control of the Holmes family estates?" Sherlock asked.

John looked at Sherlock whose expression was pure mischief and promise, “How exactly?”

"If Mary is pregnant with my child, I want that child. If she is pregnant with your child, I want that child. I do not want Mycroft to get control of it, and he will try everything short of actually killing Mary to get it. Step 1: Court Mary. Convince her that you have fallen in love with her. Sleep with her if you must. We can move her into your bedroom upstairs and offer her a job as your receptionist when we open your clinic downstairs. Step 2: Get me pregnant. Step 3: Marry Mary before she gives birth. That will make you guardian of the child. Step 4: This depends on the gender of the child. You see, John. If we have an Alpha male child, you will have control over the family estates until he is of age, because Mummy is actually Mrs. Scott. Daddy took the Holmes name as Omegas often do, especially in such situations. An Alpha male grandchild or great-grandchild overrides her claim on the estates."

“I never thought I’d get married even once in my life and here I am arranging for two of them at the same time. Sherlock, you’re serious? Of course you’re serious, what am I saying.” John had a think for a minute. This was a huge plan but he could see no way around it. Knowing that Sherlock had nothing to do with the child’s inception made the situation easier for John to deal with somehow. His mate was right too; no matter which of them was the father, that child would be theirs and theirs alone. Mary had signed on as a human incubator for all intents and purposes. Even if she had feelings for the unborn babe she had no rights to it at all, even less if John legally married her. Right then and there John unconditionally accepted Sherlock’s plan, “Sleeping with her won’t be easy for me. I’ll do it if I have to but I’m going to need a lot of reassurance after that. I’m naturally monogamous; I seriously feel like I’m planning to cheat on you, it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable actually.”

Sherlock drew him into his arms and kissed his cheek. "Do it for me. The marriage is only completely legal if you consummate it. Don't let them take my child," Sherlock whispered in his ear.

John’s resolve became iron. Sherlock’s child could not be taken from him. John had once been known as Three Continents Watson, by no stretch of the imagination had he been in love with all he ex-partners! He could woo Mary until her entire universe revolved around John. “I’m marrying you first though love, always you first. I’ll take care of that bit of business after.”

Sherlock kissed him. "I love you," Sherlock whispered against John's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much more on the way!


	22. Facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock are outraged and determined. John goes to speak with the one person who can give them the facts!

The first thing John did after renewing his intimacy with Sherlock was to arrange a meeting with Mycroft. John was formally inquiring about Mary’s acceptability as a possible wife, as per John’s contract. Mycroft pretended to be surprised at John’s interest in the blond beta but still made a show of getting her history checked out, as if he hadn’t done that himself months ago. Mary would be only two weeks along, John needed to play this game quickly and Mycroft needed it too. It took everything in John to not show his revulsion at the concept of being with someone other than Sherlock. His bond with Sherlock was deepening to nearly uncomfortable levels. John was as tightly bound to his Omega as any Alpha he’d ever read about. Only the desire to retrieve his mate’s child could induce him to play along even this much. 

"And how is my dear brother?" Mycroft asked. John could hear the genuine concern in his voice. It made him think of Mycroft's restrictions. He was a male Alpha, yes, but he did not control the family.

“He’s a little upset. What happened at dinner last night Mycroft? Why did you set me up with Mary Morstan? I didn’t ask you to do that. Sherlock was almost comatose when I finally got to him!” Sherlock had taken forever to warm up and John still wasn’t sure his Omega wasn’t more affected by what they needed to deal with than he’d let on. It would be very like Sherlock to bury a legitimate concern because he deemed it too sentimental.

Mycroft turned pale. "I should have gone after him, but he was running from me so I thought...I should have called you." Mycroft waved John to a chair facing him. There was a small round table with glasses and a couple of decanters. Mycroft poured them both a whiskey. He downed the first and poured another for himself.

“Mycroft, what’s going on?” John counseled himself to patience. He was very angry with Mycroft but the older Alpha seemed disturbed so he held himself back. One wrong word would all John would need though so he listened carefully and watched even closer.

"I am sure that you and Sherlock think I am some sort of monster but I really do want what is best for my son," Mycroft said, surprising John since Mycroft had never made in indication that he knew that John knew.

Sensing that this might be his once chance to hear everything without censorship John sat down and pointedly took a sip of the drink that Mycroft had given him, “I want to know everything. You realize that Sherlock is my ONLY concern. I absolutely consider him my first priority. I think I deserve to know everything.”

Mycroft stared at John for a moment. "You will tell him everything. Sherlock cannot know everything. He is a delicate creature for all his posturing."

“He’s not as delicate as you think Mycroft. For fuck’s sake you raised him or at least, you watched him be raised. He’s intelligent, insightful, and perceptive. He’s figuring things out on his own. Now, tell me everything Mycroft Holmes!” John didn’t hear the dominant tones coming out in his voice. His Omega had been distressed and John needed to fix this.

Mycroft tilted his head to look at John. It was a clear indication that Mycroft was trying to decide whether to fight or to submit. His bowed head then showed he submitted. "Sherrinford and I were home for the holidays. Mrs. Hudson, then Miss Turner was our housekeeper. Mummy was busy as usual with her work and Daddy couldn't manage two Alpha teenagers. Sherrinford's porphyria had already presented itself. My elder brother is quite insane, but a genius all the same. He got early entry into university. I expect that is why Mrs. Hudson was...well, the result was Sherlock. Sherlock was a disappointment to my grandparents because he was an Omega. But fate took a hand and both Ford and I caught the mumps that summer. You might recall that it was in epidemic proportions that year and for some reason it affected the Alpha males the most. Sherlock is the only child born to his generation of the Holmes family and will remain so."

John sat there in stunned silence. “You can’t have children. That’s why Sherrinford doesn’t have control of the estate and you do. Even if it’s not official you have Sherlock but he’s an Omega. He can’t inherit! Okay I understand all of that but Mycroft, why Mary? Why did she have to be involved? You never gave me a chance to even try having a child with Sherlock, we still haven’t had a chance! You know conception almost never happens during a bonding heat!” John was still enraged even while he felt sympathy for Mycroft and in a small way, Sherrinford. Every Alpha desired children. To be denied them at the beginning of their breeding life would have been very difficult to deal with.

"Do you really think that Sherlock can carry a child to full term? He isn't as badly affected as Ford but he still has fits and sometimes we have had to institutionalize him because he raves on for weeks. Medications keep it under control but if he had a fit while carrying a child, he would lose it. Mary doesn't know it but she isn't carrying hers and Sherlock's child. She is carrying yours and Sherlock's child. As a Beta she has neither Alpha or Omega hormones so with care she will not reject the child. It took a lot of searching to find the right person. I could have contracted an Omega but an Omega would not give up the child after it was born. Mary contracted to have this child for information that she needs," Mycroft continued and by the way that he downed the next whiskey it was taking its toll to tell John.

“You don’t know for sure about Sherlock, you don’t know! I don’t see anything wrong with him except that he gets so bored sometimes it drives him right up the wall! Sherlock isn’t an ordinary Omega, surely you know that. You wouldn’t have let him learn so much if you didn’t know! He IS a genius, he needs to be occupied with more than wedding plans and make-work! I don’t care what you think about Sherlock’s ability to have a baby! We’re trying and that’s all there is to it!” John was shouting by now and the import of Mycroft’s words didn’t hit him until he was done.

John sank back down and looked at Mycroft with shock and awe, “It’s our baby? That baby is ours? Sherlock and I together? You swear?” John couldn’t help the eager tones in his voice. This was the most incredible news!

"Yes, John. Yours. And I hope that you and Sherlock will have many children. I told Sherlock that we took his sperm off the hotel sheets but it was yours and only for verification. He is a little dense when it comes to biology. If you will remember we took a sperm sample from you, and we have had plenty of opportunity to take other samples from Sherlock."

John didn’t know what to say but all the anger had left him. “I want legal rights over this child. It’s mine, it does not matter if it’s born an Alpha, and Omega or even Beta. You didn’t need to do it this way but I can understand your reasons. Mary knows what she’s getting into. I want to marry her after I marry Sherlock and I want you to waive the consummation requirement. She’s already carrying my child. I don’t need to sully my commitment to Sherlock to validate the baby. The child will be a Holmes if it’s an Alpha, male or female. The first born Alpha child from Sherlock is your heir, regardless of primary gender.” It was stupid to have gender laws tied up with inheritance laws. John wasn’t going to follow the Holmes’ inglorious footsteps.

"And so the Watson-Holmes dynasty begins, Mycroft muttered, "Sherlock will not be happy that you have taken his revenge from him. I know he has plotted something. This must all seem very strange to you. Sherlock shows his love for his family by not taking this all quietly and accepting it all. We are not known for our displays of sentimentality, John. I know that Sherlock still cares. No torture would get him to admit it. But I am getting soft with age. He is my only child and I will have a grandchild before I die."

Then Mycroft smiled. "It really is a love match between the two of you."

This was something John could answer with assurance, “It really is.” John needed to talk to Sherlock, to tell him what he had learned. Sherlock would have questions of his own, things John wouldn’t have thought of because Sherlock was brilliant. “This discussion isn’t over Mycroft, you understand though, I absolutely have to talk to Sherlock about all this. He’s not dealing well with any of this and if you’re as worried for his health as you say you are, you’ll let me go. I’ll want to speak to you again though, soon.” John wasn’t asking. He stood and Mycroft stood right after.

"Look after my baby John," Mycroft said as John left.

John went right back to Sherlock and found his mate pacing around in a state of extreme agitation, “Sherlock, you’re never going to believe what I’ve just found out!”

Sherlock practically flew into John's arms. "I don't like it when you are away from me. You must stop doing that. I found out something as well."

“Tell me what you found out love, then we’d better sit down.” John kissed Sherlock soothingly, hugging his mate tightly and rubbing his cheek against Sherlock’s neck. The scent transfer calmed the taller man down almost instantly. Sherlock took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and looked down at John. The doctor looked up and waited with a patient smile.

"I am not well educated in biology. So I looked up some information. It is highly improbable that I am the father of Mary's baby. Not only are very few Omegas fertile as males but the likelihood of them getting viable sperm from sheets is low in the extreme. But you should have known this as a doctor."

Sherlock looked so proud of himself that John couldn’t help but give him a huge smile in return, “You’re absolutely correct love but sit yourself down.” John made Sherlock sit, “You aren’t the father of the baby inside Mary. I am. Sherlock, love, you’re the donor. It’s your baby too. It’s our baby.”

Sherlock's face went through a series of emotions. But mostly it settled on open mouthed shock as he stared silently at John.

“Darling, are you alright?” John took Sherlock’s hands and chaffed them between his as he explained everything Mycroft had told him, keeping not one detail to himself. He sat back and waited for Sherlock to process the information, knowing better than to expect the kind of reaction a regular Omega might have to such news.

"How dare she have our child," he said eventually. "All my life they have treated me as inferior. They ignored my greater intelligence. They ignored me. My only crime was that I was born able to bear children. And now they have taken even that from me..."

“No Sherlock, no they haven’t. Mycroft is desperate. He’s making desperate choices but we don’t have to be that way. Look, once our first Alpha child is born it will be as you said, we’ll be in charge, not Mycroft, never Sherrinford. Your mum goes back to just being granny and we decide how things should be. Having our first child this way isn’t my dream but at least the child is ours together and not hers. Mary made a hard deal for something she wants very much, something that only Mycroft can give her. I told Mycroft we’d get back to him with questions.”

"I don't want to know why she did it. I have changed my mind. I don't want you to touch her. You are mine, not hers. That baby is ours not hers. Once that baby is born I don't ever want to see her again," Sherlock spoke with fierce determination that shocked John. Omegas were not supposed to be like this. But this was Sherlock.

“I won’t have to touch her. I will marry her but that’s just for parental rights over the newborn. You can come with me any time I need to see Mary, I swear.” John told Sherlock about his request to change the need to consummate.

"I want her here, where I can keep an eye on her. I want to be part of every day of that baby from now on. If I could transfer that baby into me I would. But I can't, so she is going to live here with us until she is no longer a part of this."

“Whatever you want Sherlock, anything at all. Mycroft can’t say no, not after this. I’ll make sure you get whatever you need love. I know you can do anything you put your mind to and if you want to watch over our child then I think that’s a fine idea.” John was so proud of Sherlock, he was radiating approval in palpable waves. Their baby might not be inside Sherlock but he was already a good mother, worrying and fretting over their little one. They had a difficult few months in front of them, arrangements would need to be made. “We’ll remodel the upstairs for her for now, when it gets difficult for her to use the stairs she can begin staying with Mrs. Hudson. She’ll still be within reach but without endangering the baby on the stairwells.”

"Yes, let her see what it's like to be an Omega. She lives where you say, eats what you say, the baby is yours not hers. She can work in your clinic. Mrs. Hudson let the builder in today. Tea?"

John laughed a bit at the vindictiveness in his voice. Mary had indeed signed a contract that ensured she’d be treated exactly like a high-class Omega. Most people didn’t realize what kind of life that really meant, that nothing was yours, nothing at all. John didn’t care for that attitude but at the same time he couldn’t allow someone to have even the lightest claim on his baby. Mary might be a fine and decent person, he didn’t know her well enough to say if she was or wasn’t. All that mattered now was that she was healthy, pregnant, and about to be a living observational specimen for the most curious man in the universe for the better part of a year. “I’d love some tea, I’ll make it though, love. Rest yourself, what about the builder?” John enjoyed making the tea, the small ritual of rinsing out kettles and cups, finding sugar and cream, all of it always made him feel warm and calm.

Sherlock followed John about the kitchen getting in the way as he didn't let John more than a few inches away from him. Instead of the genius detective, Sherlock was being a upset 5 year old with separation anxiety. "He inspected 221C. Mrs. Hudson said they would have to strip it back, reline it and fully air-condition it. They will remove the mold and treat the area so it won't return but there is nothing they can do for the outside because it is listed as a Victorian landmark. The stairs outside can still be used so no one has to come into the house to get to the clinic."

John smiled again, they had a baby on the way and there was work John enjoyed to look forward to. Today was certainly ending better than it had started out. “We’ll get the contractor to look at the upstairs room as well, how’s that sound love? Make a list for your brother Sherlock, suddenly we’re very busy.”


	23. Can you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock need time together to sort things out.

Waking up with Sherlock was like waking up with no one John had ever known. He was a big mass of boneless limbs. His tentacles wrapped around John and his suckers held on for dear life. It was uncomfortable but it made waking up a joy to have Sherlock so close and for Sherlock to treat him like a much loved teddy bear. It didn't take John long to work out that Sherlock was not a morning person. Being a parent was going to be a shock so John was going to have to ease him into it slowly. Sherlock swatted away his hand as John tried to wake him. An expert in just about every martial art ever invented, Sherlock grabbed the offending hand and flipped John right out of the bed, literally landing on top of him. John instinctively retaliated and reversed the situation. Now awake Sherlock looked up at John, "Really, John! If you wanted sex all you had to do was wake me. There is no need to attack me in my sleep," he said seriously. "Why are we on the floor?"

“You threw us here as I was trying to wake you. Thanks love.” John kissed the blush on Sherlock’s chagrined cheek. “Very impressive Sherlock, good thing I was a soldier or that could have been awkward.”

"You are welcome." Sherlock poked John's love handles. "We need to get you a gym membership."

“Oi, thanks a lot there Mr. Perfect. That didn’t hurt my feelings!” John kissed Sherlock heartily to show he was just joking. He was getting a bit soft in the middle, maybe a gym membership wasn’t a bad idea. Running wasn’t impossible either. John suppressed a regretful sigh. He used to be rock hard from head to toe, every muscle lean and hard. Now he had a very definite tummy and the chiseled planes of his army body were covered in a very fine but very apparent layer of fat. John felt a moment of self-consciousness. Sherlock was like a marble statue, perfect in every detail.

Sherlock kissed him passionately. "While you are there..." Now awakened, Sherlock appetite for sex was almost as much as most Omegas had when in heat. He wiggled under John. Sherlock's hip bones were not the only hard thing poking into John.

“Up on the bed love, right now.” John was more than happy to pleasure his mate. Sherlock smelled wonderful, the strains of John’s scent stronger than ever, no longer a gentle hint but grown into a powerful harmony with Sherlock’s. Sherlock twisted beneath John and wriggled away provocatively. With a playful laugh Sherlock scrambled onto the bed, coyly arranging himself so John could appreciate every eager part of him. John growled softly as he nearly pounced on his lover, catching him in a searing kiss.

Sherlock had learned to kiss perfectly under John's tutelage and he knew every sensitive spot on John, but both being males they were really only interested in penetration. Foreplay was all well and good as play but they instinctively sought to be joined.

“Never been so happy to be an Omega.” muttered Sherlock whose natural slick was making him quickly available to John who in turn was using his clever surgeon’s hand to prepare him.

"There is however one thing which I have been meaning to ask you," Sherlock continued, his mind racing on beyond what his body was doing as they were two different entities. "I am male and as such my penis is meant to penetrate by nature. Would you be interested in such an experiment?"

“Oh I don’t know,” John hadn’t really thought about it before, Alpha’s didn’t naturally tend toward being topped but it was kind of kinky sounding, interestingly so. John grinned at Sherlock and bit at his bottom lip before wiggling suggestively. Sherlock was well endowed for an Omega, but John made his voice sound as innocent as possible, “Why do you ask?”

"Not right now, but one day. I'd like to experience it." He didn't say that Mycroft had teased him as a teenager that it was one thing he would never know.

John kissed his lover ardently, tugging at Sherlock’s hand until his mate had it spread over John’s backside, “Whenever you want Sherlock. Whatever you want.”

Sherlock stroked John's smooth rear, then dipped long lean fingers into the crack. "I should be angry with you. You destroy my mind with pleasure, but you are addictive. Take me John."

John only wanted to make Sherlock happy so he complied. Laying Sherlock back John took advantage of his natural preparation and slowly worked his way in. John was already gasping; nothing had ever equaled the sheer delight he felt whenever he united with his Omega. This was perfection, a rightness that the universe demanded. This was what then entire world strove to obtain, the ultimate union, the Alpha and the Omega. John felt a strange stirring at the base of his cock. He knew it would take only a bit of extra stimulation to start his knot hardening. Sherlock’s scent was nearly as enticing as when he’d been in full heat. Taking Sherlock’s hand he pulled it down until those hard narrow fingers could caress the base of John’s cock as he sank and retreated slowly over and over again, “You want this?”

"Yes," Sherlock replied, his voice so deep that it sent vibrations through John. Sherlock toyed with him encouragingly, one finger finding and stroking the sensitive soft flesh just behind his balls as he somehow managed to massage his balls and cock at the same time. "Does that feel good, John? Am I pleasing you?"

John could only groan encouragingly before showing Sherlock how to grip and squeeze him just right so the knot began to swell and harden. Sherlock’s fingers seemed to be everywhere, learning every move perfectly the first time he was shown. John groaned again but managed to say, “You are pleasing me very much love.”

"Good, now knot me and I will come for you," Sherlock moaned. Sherlock lifted his legs over John's back and thrust his hips up until John's knot pushed inside him. Both gasped and John's knot continued to swell now that it was in place. "I have you now and I am not letting you go," Sherlock told John teasingly.

“You mean I’ve got you and I’M not letting you go now.” teased John right back. His knot wasn’t as large as it would be during their heat but it still felt amazing to be seized by his Omega in such a way. Sherlock had been right to ask for this! Knotting outside of heat was the most incredible sensation! John rocked his hips the tiniest bit and was rewarded with a lingering moan from Sherlock could couldn’t help orgasming. Sherlock retaliated by clamping down just the smallest amount, triggering the same reaction in John.

They were entirely distracted by it, the knot lingering for the longest time as their mutual orgasm went on and on. By the time John softened enough to finally move away both men were shaking and weak with excessive pleasure, “Sherlock!” shivered John, his arms like noodles. Weakly Sherlock managed to roll over and flop against John, “We’re doing that again. Not today. Soon.”

“Alright John.” Sherlock sounded so completely satisfied. A long arm managed to snag the blankets and sloppily dragged them over them both. "Can we stay in bed today?" Sherlock asked.

“Well I’m not moving, not for a while at any rate.” said John agreeably. His toes were buzzing, that’s how good he felt right then. That had been the most incredible experience he’d ever shared with anyone and John for one was glad Sherlock had asked to try knotting outside of heat, “You’re alright though? Not sore?”

"A bit. I don't think I could stand right now. But it is certainly worth it," Sherlock replied and clung to John. John endured the teddy bear hugging, the heavy head on his shoulder, at least it was his good shoulder, and even the drool when he realized what a good sleep Sherlock was having.

The man was entirely out. John had never seen Sherlock sleep so hard. He was limp and boneless, but rooted toward John whenever John shifted or moved a bit. John went back to slowly running his fingers through Sherlock’s hair until he too drifted off for a lovely nap. They’d have a big breakfast when they woke the second time.

It wasn't until 1am the next morning that John regretted letting Sherlock sleep. He was hyper and trying to play the violin and plan a new attack on Mycroft at the same time. Mrs. Hudson apparently had ear plugs or perhaps she took a sleeping pill.

John tried to settle his manic Omega down but it wasn’t easy. At one point Sherlock sadly took himself to the bathroom and sighed as he looked at the medicine cabinet. John remembered how Mycroft liked to deal with Sherlock’s emotional excesses and led Sherlock away from the mirrored cabinet immediately, “You’re bored, aren’t you? Okay, let’s go over what we know about our little problems then. Come on, get your laptop out, make a list.” John chivvied his mate to pull out his laptop and soon Sherlock was typing happily away as he muttered vindictively about Mycroft and Mary.

He seemed to have forgotten John was in the room as he muttered to himself about how John was his and she had no right to him and went through several plots of murdering her without being caught. Sherlock would have made an excellent criminal.

“She had a motive Sherlock, she wants something from Mycroft. We don’t know what that is yet. List your questions. I’ll get as much information out of Mycroft as we can. He’s not getting off so easily. Mary will be moving in soon, I want to know as much as we can before then. Find it out Sherlock, I know you can.” John encouraged Sherlock once again to unfetter that magnificent mind and focus it on the puzzle at hand.

At 3am John woke himself up snoring into a cushion on the couch. Sherlock was oblivious to his presence. He cleared away the last cup of tea which Sherlock hadn't touched and made fresh. Sherlock was concentrating on something online. "Ah yes of course. Laevoduction lagophthalmus languescence, " he muttered and started typing rapidly.

John recognized the first two words, “What was that last one?” he muttered sleepily. How long had he been dozing? He’d been listening to Sherlock’s random comments just a second ago, hadn’t he?

"Languescence," Sherlock replied. "The tendency to tiredness. When she is tired, Mary's left eye partially closes and drifts towards the left. So when she lies she tends to lift her left eyebrow."

John hadn't really paid attention to Mary enough to notice what her eyes did or when she felt tired. Until recently she had just been the more pleasant part of planning a society wedding, easing the immense load from John and Sherlock entirely as the small company she worked for began to organize everything. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. The doctor yawned and looked down at his mate, trying to decide if he wanted more tea or not, "Does she lie a lot?" John believed Sherlock. The man had an uncanny talent for reading body language.

"Just enough to make it believable," Sherlock replied. "She is however not working for a wedding planning company. She owns it. She is a nurse. However Mary Morstan died at the age of three of pneumonia."

John wasn’t terribly surprised to find out that Mary was false, but it disappointed him. John hated being lied to; he hoped Sherlock was always truthful with him, about big things anyway. The Omega was naturally secretive, John wouldn’t change anything about his lover, “How did Mycroft miss this?”

"He didn't. I believe he is playing on Mary's obviously illegal background. After all, what person hires themselves out to have babies that they will give up? Do woman do that sort of thing?"

John wasn’t impressed with Mycroft. If the man was going to play at being omniscient he could at least do a serious job of it. “I guess he was only interested in her genes. I don’t know what kind of person she is, but whatever it is she wants from Mycroft must be pretty important. As far as she knows the baby is hers as well as yours.” 

"Mycroft would have been very particular about the contract. He would not have missed anything important. She is dangerous. More dangerous than The Woman. I don't believe she would hesitate to remove any obstacle in her way. It is such a shame that I..." Sherlock didn't finish his sentence.

John was beside Sherlock in an instant, “What Sherlock?” he silently encouraged his mate to speak, never wanting Sherlock to fear telling him things.

"I like her," Sherlock told John honestly.

Well John wasn’t sure what to feel about that. Mary was nice enough, pleasant enough, interesting enough and definitely pretty enough but she wasn’t Sherlock. She was carrying their baby, knowingly had signed on for the job of being pregnant, but the deception! John could never be close to someone who had been paid to lie to him, and she had. “You do? Why.”

There was something Sherlock was seeing but couldn't quite explain yet, John could see his Omega mulling the facts over.

"She is strong and intelligent and possibly a complete psychopath," Sherlock said. "She is also kind and oddly friendly for a woman."

“If she’s a psychopath wouldn’t that mean she’s completely capable of playing any role she chooses?” John took a deep breath. They’d need to be able to live with this woman for months. He couldn’t let his new dislike of her continue to fester. It wouldn’t be good for the baby. Their home needed to be tranquil, happy. If Sherlock liked Mary then it would be easier for John to accept a stranger in their home. “What do you think she really wants?”

"Most likely something that has nothing to do with us. She will reveal most if we do not allow her to know that we know anything is amiss. Can you do that, John? Can you welcome her into our home; treat her well and as a friend? She is pleasant to be around, and to answer your question, no, not necessarily. Psychopaths vary greatly. Some are obviously insane while others are only psychopathic in action."

John held onto Sherlock while he thought. Could he do that? Could he keep up the pretense that Mary wasn’t completely unwelcome and that her role as the mother of Sherlock’s baby was one that he hadn’t the slightest interest in killing her over? Burying his nose in Sherlock’s neck John breathed the scent of his mate in deeply. For Sherlock John would do anything, absolutely anything. He’d be nice to Mary. He’d make small talk and chit-chat, and allow her to keep living for as long as their child rested beneath her heart. For Sherlock. “Tea?” he asked, knowing Sherlock understood his unspoken answer.

Sherlock rubbed his face on John's hand like a cat scent marking. He loved the sensation of skin against skin. While John was making tea he stood looking out the window at the sky as it brightened with dawn. "It is going to rain today. I have a book I want to read today," Sherlock said as if it was a logical sequence that John would understand.

“Sherlock? Fill in the middle bits love.”

"After tea, I am going to bed and I might spend the rest of the day there, thinking and reading," Sherlock told him. "It would be nice if you joined me."

“If you don’t mind me mostly sleeping, of course I’d love to join you.” John fetched out his paperback anyway. It was so early in the morning John was sure he’d doze off right away but lounging around later on would be more than acceptable. A whole day spent in bed with nothing to do but reading and cuddling sounded just perfect, “Off we go Sherlock.” John held out his hand toward his Omega.


	24. Gilded Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last little while has been an emotional roller-coaster for our couple. Hopefully a good night's sleep has set their world to rights.

John woke to the sounds of Sherlock throwing up in the bathroom. Sherlock was hanging over the bowl looking miserable.

"Sherlock, when did this start? How are you feeling right now?" John was instantly concerned. Sherlock had several avenues to ill health, John wanted to be on top of all of them, no matter how unpleasant it could get. He would be there for his mate.

"Just a couple of minutes ago. I woke up feeling nauseous. It's not the porphyria. It's just nausea nothing else," Sherlock informed him.

John wasn't entirely convinced. Sherlock had a way of dismissing problems with his body, referring to it as 'transport' and therefore of no importance. John had a different opinion about that matter. Sherlock looked slightly green and was hovering near the toilet like he wasn't sure that leaving was a good idea, "Don't try to stop yourself. If you need to be sick, be sick." Sherlock didn't hesitate. Turning he was ill all over again but this time when he was done he looked relieved if a bit shaky.

"Tea?" he asked as he rinsed out his mouth and swayed on his feet. "There is some chamomile in a cup somewhere in the kitchen. I don't think I have anything else to throw up."

“Ginger tea Sherlock. Some dry toast as well. Come on.” John knew several tried and true methods of dealing with unhappy tummies. Being in the field surrounded by soldiers who often got ill from eating the local fare unwisely had shown John the difference between things you hoped worked and things that did. Ginger tea was widely available and it worked almost immediately. The toast would help and Sherlock didn’t even need to eat it quickly. Sherlock had no idea what John kept in the cupboards. The kitchen might as well be a foreign land as far as the Omega was concerned.

Sherlock sat at the kitchen table with his forehead resting on the table as he seemed to be contemplating his lap. "I don't like this, John. I can't think. This does not feel like anything that I know. I don't want ginger tea. I want almond ice cream."

"Have one cup of tea Sherlock, then you can have anything you want." urged John. He made the smallest cup possible and sweetened it heavily before offering it to the tall petulant man at the table.

Sherlock downed in almost in one gulp. "Isn't there some ginger cordial in the cupboard? I remember buying some about 5 years ago."

“If that’s what you like we’ll get you some new cordial. You’re not drinking five year old expired beverages.” Sherlock really had no idea about some things. John smiled as he saw Sherlock become visibly better after only a couple of minutes. John began to root through the well-stocked refrigerator, looking for something to make himself for breakfast. Sherlock probably couldn’t manage more than the toast he was poking with a desultory finger.

"I am a complete failure as an Omega," Sherlock moaned. "I should have had them cut it all out...become a Beta. Become a eunuch."

John rolled his eyes at the melodrama, “It’s just a bit of upset stomach Sherlock, nothing to mutilate yourself over. Eat your toast.” John rather enjoyed how unusual Sherlock was. He was as far from the norm as you could get. Omega’s were delicate, sensitive, docile, tender. Sherlock was loud, brash, blunt, irascible, and petulant. John absolutely loved it. He wasn’t threatened by Sherlock’s unique qualities! He was challenged by them and because Sherlock was so difficult to handle John felt satisfied even doing nothing more than trying to coax the sulking man to at least nibble the edges away.

Sherlock stuffed the corner of the toast in his mouth, wiped his hands down his silk dressing gown and headed into the sitting room where he took up his violin and started composing. By the sound of it he was aiming at a lullaby. "We ought to go shopping, don't you think? Take Mary. Buy baby stuff." John got some of it through the toast still stuffed in his mouth.

“Maybe we should be asking her to move in first and telling her we know she’s pregnant.” suggested John.

John didn't understand what Sherlock said next but he thought it might have been swearing in several languages.

“Listen Sherlock, I don’t want her here at all! I don’t! She’s got OUR baby inside her! We have to think of the baby. Do you want her running all over the place doing who knows what with just anybody? You said you wanted her here, have you changed your mind? If you have then we need to make different plans!” John wasn’t exactly frustrated but their attitude about Mary had flipped and flopped so many times John didn’t know how Sherlock would react! John didn’t feel comfortable having a stranger in their home but how else were they going to safeguard their child?

Sherlock put his violin down carefully as if it was a baby. He removed the piece of toast hanging out of his mouth and said, "I don't want her anywhere near you! You are mine. And I want our baby in me, not her." He then burst into tears and sank to the floor.

John practically flew to Sherlock who threw his arms around John and clung to him as he wept noisily. “I’ll stay away from her if you want love, as much as you need me to stay away. I’m sorry everything is so messed up darling; I’d fix it if I could. I love you Sherlock, I love you.” John comforted his distraught mate as much as he could. Clearly Sherlock was having a bad day, all the stresses and shocks of the immediate past were obviously becoming too much for him to deal with. “Tell me what you want and I’ll try to make it happen.”

"What's wrong with me?" Sherlock asked. "This is your fault. You make me this soppy emotional Omega. I can't think. Of course I want her here where we can keep an eye on her. I want you to act like she is the best thing since sliced bread but I don't want you to."

John understood. If Sherlock had to trade places with John and pretend that he was dating Mary John would fall to pieces! Still Sherlock wasn’t totally healthy and John was concerned, “Tell you what Sherlock, we’ll get everyone to help. Mrs. Hudson can spend time with Mary, we can get Mycroft to assign someone to escort her back and forth to work until she goes on maternity leave. We’ll do whatever it takes to make this easier for you, alright?”

John was worried enough about Sherlock to make another suggestion, "Do you want to see your doctor today love? He can check your stomach for you."

"I don't deserve you. I truly don't." Sherlock seemed to cheer up when John mentioned the doctor. "Can we stop by the morgue?"

“After we see your doctor, certainly. Call Molly, tell her we’re popping by later. I’ll make your appointment.” John kissed Sherlock and helped him up, snugging his mate into the sofa with his mobile. Fetching his own John sent a message to Anthea who was at his disposal for matters concerning Sherlock. She sent back a text only a few minutes later telling John the doctor would be waiting their arrival whenever they made it to the private clinic.

Sherlock was hugging his knees and rocking when John got back to him. He had thrown up on the floor.

“Sherlock! Stay where you are.” John cleaned the mess up, shooting worried glances at his mate. As soon as the floor was tidied John took Sherlock into the bathroom to wash up thoroughly before dressing to go out, “We’re seeing your doctor right now!” he declared firmly.

Mike Stamford looked up from his desk when John and Sherlock entered. "John, well this is a surprise." He looked from John to Sherlock. "How can I help you today, Mr. Holmes?"

John waited for Sherlock to speak but for once Sherlock was standing there politely waiting for John to begin. John realized that Sherlock was attempting to make a good impression. This was the first time outside of their immediate circle that they’d seen anyone they knew since they had bonded. A little bemused John began, “Sherlock was ill as soon as he woke this morning. There were three episodes in total. I need to find out if this is something just passing through or if it’s part of a larger problem. Sherlock can answer any questions you have for him, he doesn’t need me to speak for him.”

"I was hardly expecting you to turn up in my office with an Alpha. But I can tell you from experience that John Watson will take very good care of you, Sherlock. Bonded already?" he asked. Stamford being a Beta couldn't smell their pheromones. 

"Yes. As I am sure you already know, I had an incident with my porphyria not long ago but it was only the one incident. This morning I woke up nauseous. No fever, no headache, no pain," Sherlock told him. Mike went to a draw in the cabinet on the side wall and pulled out a packet. "We'll eliminate by doing the simplest tests first. Go pee on this and this. I'll wait."

Sherlock stared at Mike, silently indignant. Taking the small proffered item Sherlock swirled away and went to go do his business. John fretted quietly as he waited.

"I see you took my advice on Matchmakers," Mike said to John as they waited. "You know they closed down the next day. They must have made one hell of a match."

John gave Mike a stern stare. Mike had been part of the setup that had brought John to Sherlock and while that had been to John’s great benefit he still didn’t deal well with being deceived. “Yeah, Sherlock and I are getting married soon."

"Well, congratulations. Hope you are inviting me to the wedding." There was an awkward silence until Sherlock returned with the test strips. "No drugs," Mike said and tossed one strip away. However, I have to say congratulations again. Sherlock, you are going to be a mother." As he wrote a script to take care of the worst of Sherlock's morning sickness, John and Sherlock stared at each other in shock.

Mike eventually noticed the stunned silence from the two men who could not stop staring at one another. There was dreadful hope on Sherlock’s face and John wasn’t sure what his face was doing because he wanted to howl with joy but they needed to be sure, oh so sure. “Check again.” gritted John reaching out to grasp Sherlock’s cold fingers, “Check three times if you have to.”

Mike grabbed a handful of the test strips and handed them to John. "Here, so one more now and then one every day at a different time of day, just to be sure. This test on Omegas usually gives false negative, not false positives." He showed John the used test. It couldn't show any clearer if there was a flashing neon sign saying ‘You're PREGNANT’!

John couldn’t stop the stupid smile the spread across his face. He couldn’t stop the delighted laughter. He couldn’t stop grabbing Sherlock up and almost swinging him around with glee because they were having a BABY! A baby! A properly-made-growing-inside-Sherlock-blended John/Sherlock-DNA-combined-naturally BABY! “My perfect mate, you incredible man! You amazing, odds defying, stubborn man!” John kissed Sherlock hard all over again.

Mike cleared his throat. "Perhaps you should go home to celebrate? On the way out give this to the nurse and she will take blood to make sure that everything else in in order."

John and Sherlock practically floated out of the office. Sherlock stuck his arm out dreamily, grinning as foolishly as John who already couldn’t help himself and was rubbing Sherlock’s abdomen proudly. His wonderful mate had beaten so many odds! Withdrawal, his illness, the bonding, the shock of Mary, everything! They were having a baby and suddenly John felt like everything in his world was going to be just fine.

Sherlock hadn't said a word after that. He had barely reacted to the news. It was starting to worry John. In the taxi home he started to cry. "I can't be a mother. I am barely an excuse for a human being."

John pulled his mate close and let Sherlock cry his stress out, “You already are a good mother, you want to look after the baby inside Mary and only a very good mother would want to do that. You’ll be the best mother around because you’re so smart, you’re clever, you’re capable, and you know how to figure things out. I’ll be with you too and you’ll help me be a good dad, we’ll help each other. That’s how it will always be with you and I.”

"Don't be so condescending, John. You are just as worried as I am about how we are going to get through this," Sherlock said sounding more like himself. He straightened up and wiped his face. "Well, there is nothing else for it. I must ring Mycroft and get a nurse and nanny. We will have to move. The flat is far too small for two babies."

“All new parents are worried, that’s part of the deal. I have every confidence in you Sherlock, even if you don’t believe in yourself.” Of course John had worries, what parent didn’t? Sherlock’s health wasn’t perfect, there was still Mary to deal with and so many other issues. Still John wasn’t going to let that dampen his sunny day! They were having a baby! Wait till Mycroft learned that all his machinations were pointless! “If you want to move, we’ll move. Appropriate housing is part of my contract in case we had a large family. I just wasn’t expecting to have a baby boom the first year!”

"Do you realize that we only met 5 weeks ago?" Sherlock said.

“That’s not much time to adjust to all the changes we’ve experienced,” admitted John who’s euphoria was beginning to fade with Sherlock’s continued unhappiness. “Sherlock, are you really that unhappy? I thought you’d be thrilled to find out you’re having our baby.”

Sherlock turned and smiled at John. "I'm just scared. I am not accustomed to being scared."

John smiled at his mate and began to emanate soothing vibes, keeping Sherlock in his arms and humming softly to keep calming him, “I love you Sherlock Holmes. I believe in you. You can do anything you put that beautiful mind to, I know it.”

Mary was waiting in the sitting room when they got home. They had forgotten their appointment with her. She smiled at them cheerfully.

John felt instantly uncomfortable and looked to Sherlock. Taking his mate by the hand John allowed Sherlock to possessively lay his arm around John’s shoulders, leaning slightly toward his mate to demonstrate his utter devotion. “Mary.” he said by way of greeting.

"Mrs. Hudson said you were off at the doctor's. I hope everything is well?" 

"Yes, perfect, in fact. However, from now on, John has the final say on all wedding plans, not Mummy or Mycroft," Sherlock said firmly.

Mary looked a bit taken aback but smiled gamely and made a note in the overly flowery notebook she used instead of a mobile.

"There are not to be any decorations inside the church apart from the usual alter flowers but a sizable donation is to be given to the church's restoration and maintenance fund. Arrange that with Mummy," Sherlock told her settling down on the couch. "I wonder, John, if I might trouble you for more ginger tea. I am sure that Mary might like a cup."

John knew he was being sent away on purpose but said nothing, just dropping a kiss on Sherlock’s head and going to the kitchen. Noisily he clanged around the kettle and the mugs as he dug out the last few bags of ginger tea. He’d need to go to the shops. Idly he wondered if he should call Mycroft. After fussing with biscuit arrangements on a small plate John decided he’d dithered enough and returned.

"But...I thought it had already been decided," Mary was saying hesitantly about something Sherlock had just told her. "Perhaps Mummy and Mycroft had decided, Mary. But this is my wedding. Mine and John's. We will decide what we do and do not have, and I say that we will have John's regimental colours displayed as well as his regimental crest. He retired, he wasn't dishonourably discharged. He has a right to display them."

Mary was clearly about to attempt to brush aside Sherlock’s request. “His uniform won’t go with the color scheme already chosen.” she offered lamely. “If John and I had a chance to talk it over….”

"Then we change the colours," Sherlock said simply.

Mary gaped at the Omega and a condescending look came over her face. She had the gall to reach over and pat Sherlock's hand, "Wedding jitters? You don't have to be nervous sweetie. John and I will help you with all the big decisions."

Sherlock smiled. "Yes." But in his eyes his hands were around her throat throttling the smug look off her face. "But it is important that my Alpha is honoured in every way possible. I'm sure that Mycroft and Mommy would agree. Red and white are not difficult colours. It isn't as if there are bride's maids to please, with dresses and colours etc."

Mary’s smile grew warmer and sweeter, “Okay then, I’ll run the approvals past Mrs. Holmes and see if we can change some things. I’ll get back to you by the end of the week?”

John looked dourly at Mary. Sherlock was very proud of John’s military past and John was as well. He’d known good people in the army, people who had done brave things for many reasons, often losing their lives as they chose right over duty. Many of John’s comrades-in-arms had fallen in battle trying to save just one more person, just as John himself had fallen and nearly joined their ghostly ranks. “You heard what Sherlock said, Mycroft will tell you the same. Make it happen Mary; don’t bother seeing if Mummy has an opinion. She doesn’t.”

"I will wear white, of course, to indicate my complete purity before John," Sherlock added. "With a red rosebud to indicate love."

Most male Omegas wore a black suit at their weddings, very nice ones but also ones they could wear again and again during their lifetimes. For Sherlock to insist on white was defiant and John was proud all over again at the stand his mate took at every opportunity. “Since I’ll be wearing my dress uniform I think I’ll look very smart standing right next to Sherlock. Thanks love, I need all the help I can get trying to look handsome enough to stand beside you.” John deliberately but sincerely flattered his mate, wanting Mary to see how valued Sherlock was to John, especially because of his prickly attitudes.

"Perhaps, Mary, you don't understand. It is very nice of my family to pay for my wedding and of course socially expected, just as John will be presented to many influential Alpha over the next couple of months, but I am not financially dependent on them. Regardless of my annual allowance from the family estates, I independently earn over three times the average wage apart from a considerable portfolio. Now that I am bonded, I am totally independent of my family."

Mary was clearly having a difficult time taking this concept in. There were other independent Omega in the world but they were rare. Very few ever got a chance to rise in the ranks of any career, if only because they ended up becoming contracted or if they were lucky, bonded. John knew from personal experience that an Omega was no different than a Beta or even an Alpha. All of them were good soldiers, good people. “He’s an amazing detective.” bragged John softly, “It’s incredible to watch.”

Mary's mouth dropped but she quickly put on a face. "Won't John be handling your finances now that you are bonded?" 

"That is what I hire financial advisers for," Sherlock explained. "John is a specialist. I could not possibly expect him to understand high finance."

John shrugged and smiled, "I'm mostly just here to patch him up after he catches the bad guys."

Sherlock gave a crooked smile at that. "He is so modest. He actually does me out of business. He saves lives. I solve your murder if he is not successful," Sherlock joked.

John laughed. Their humor had been in tune since the very first day. John looked at Sherlock and loved him with his whole heart, "I want Sherlock to have anything he wants for this wedding. I don't care if you have to keep changing things right till the last second. In fact, you'll be so in demand I think I'll arrange for you to have a nice place to stay, somewhere Sherlock can reach you easily."

"Why not right here? In your old room, John. There is plenty of room in our bedroom for your things and Mary can do it up just as she pleases," Sherlock said enthusiastically.

"I have my own flat," Mary replied.

"You can close it up for a few months," Sherlock told her.

"I do have other clients," Mary added.

"It is so central here. Easy to pop out to see your other clients." 

John knew Mary wouldn’t have other clients for long. A word with Mycroft would make all of Mary’s other contracts disappear. No one was going to let Mary Morstan walk around free, not when she could be carrying the heir of the Holmes bloodline. "Sounds like we're set then! I'll give Mycroft a call, all your things will be packed up and delivered in no time. It's dead easy."

"What? Wait...I..." But John was already on the phone. By the end of the day Mary was frantically trying to find her things as Mycroft's movers had packed moved and unpacked them all in short order. Everything was exactly placed on her furniture as she had it in her own flat. The furniture which was in there was now in the storage room next to 221C.

Sherlock was idly looking over the wedding plans as the move progressed, "I see that you are beginning to understand how the rich stay rich, John. They don't pay for half as much as people think. A booked out hotel for a wedding comes at a discounted price since it is worth a year's advertising as a major social event. Once we are married there they will be booked out for wedding for the next year or two. And the hotel will not have as many people to cater for because there is no way that we will have enough people at the wedding to fill the hotel, so basically the hotel is getting off cheap," Sherlock was saying as they climbed into bed that night. "Just as an example," Sherlock added.

Mary had tried to protest the move but to no avail. Mycroft had even assisted by coming over and coldly voicing his approval, sounding almost bored with the arrangement. “Sherlock can be very demanding, this is a sensible solution. Well done.” With the signed contract Mary didn’t know her new captors knew about Mary was unable to leave. Her freedoms would be curtailed one at a time until her contractual status was obtained. She would be kept in luxury, but she would have no freedom.

Sherlock was deliberately noisy in bed that night. John wanted to chastise him for it but Sherlock was being particularly attentive to John's...well, everything John's. “Is this because Mary is upstairs?” teased John who found Sherlock’s jealousy made him even more beautiful, especially now.

“Now John (moan), I’m a better man than that (MOAN). As long as she knows you’re entirely mine, we have no problem (MOOOOAN)” John just kissed the next exaggerated moan away, beginning to make love to his mate until Sherlock was unable to think of anyone but John. When the Omega finally fell asleep he looked content, his long fingered hand wrapped around John’s wrist like a manacle. John looked at the hand with a crooked grin, gathered his mate up as best he could with one arm and slept.


	25. Culture Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Mary is all moved in. Wow. She's really there.

Next morning, Mary mistook the door to their bedroom as the bathroom door. Sherlock’s head lifted off the pillow as he looked over his shoulder at her and snarled even as she stared in shock at his nearly naked behind, “Other door! The one with the toilet in it!” and sulkily flumped his head back down, snuggling John’s now awake body covetously.

"Sorry. Still half asleep," she said in way of explanation. But when she got to the bathroom door, there was no toilet symbol on it. She let a short laugh out and went inside. She started to hum and half sing off key, which annoyed Sherlock. He reached out and turned on the radio beside the bed to the police band, very loudly.

“Sherlock, I was still sleeping.” complained John though he really wasn’t. He was grouchy now because Mary had startled him out of the hazy sensual mood he’d woken up in after the wonderful way they’d gone to sleep the night before. Having someone getting ready to use their shower too was a little off-putting. Suddenly Sherlock was up, naked, and shoving his way into the bathroom with a now equally naked Mary, heaving for all he was worth into the bowl.

After the first shock and then grabbing a towel, Mary was quite nice about it. "John," she called needlessly and tried to sooth Sherlock.

“Don’t touch me.” groaned Sherlock who got sick all over again. John rushed in, completely ignoring Mary to kneel beside his mate and stroke his back soothingly until Sherlock was done. Using a warm damp flannel John cleaned his lover up and led him back to their bedroom without a word to Mary who had stood there awkwardly in her towel the entire time.

"If I am going to be like this for the rest of my life, it is a small price to pay for sex," Sherlock said.

John smiled as he helped Sherlock get into pajamas and a robe to join him in the kitchen for ginger tea and the meds Anthea had delivered during Mary’s move the day before. “You won’t be like this forever love, just for a few weeks at worst now.” John was content to fuss over Sherlock, his instinct to coddle his gravid mate intense. Idly he wondered if he would develop tendencies like that with Mary because of the baby.

Mary left the bathroom after her shower and went back to her room, leaving them alone. There were heavy footfalls on the stairs. "Mycroft," Sherlock told John.

John answered the door after a waiting for Mycroft to knock. John couldn’t help himself and blocked the door. He had to force himself to stand aside to allow another Alpha into his home where two people carried his children. John was a bit embarrassed over his lack of control but also couldn’t stop himself from going right back to Sherlock to stand behind the Omega where he sat at the kitchen table.

"Ginger tea. Excellent choice. I just popped in because I very rudely failed to congratulate you yesterday. My apologies and congratulations," Mycroft said. "One day in a month or two I will free my driver for the day to take you house-hunting, if you wish, however, there is a very nice three bedroom flat which is empty at the moment, part of the family estates."

"Is that the place in Neville House?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes. Mummy acquired it, thinking it would be nice for me," Mycroft replied.

"So close to your work," Sherlock said.

"Quite," replied Mycroft.

“John and I will look at it. If John likes it we will take it into consideration.” John’s hand rested over the bond bite beneath Sherlock’s robe. The Alpha feeling marvelous again as Sherlock refused to instantly submit to his father’s blatant offer of housing. Even if they did move there it would be because they had decided it was best, not merely because it was easily available through Mycroft. In every way Sherlock fought to be his own man.

John looked at the elder Alpha, “Mary will need a minder.” he said softly, looking pointedly at Mycroft. Mycroft smiled approvingly and suddenly leaned closer, smelling deeply. Mycroft looked shocked; clearly the scent of pregnancy in the air had been attributed to Mary alone. Now the man stared at his son in unguarded astonishment, “You’re pregnant.”

A smile grew across Sherlock's face that was half smile and half smirk. "Yes. I believe this is the point at which you say congratulations again." 

"Congratulations," Mycroft said almost without knowing it.

“Thank you.” said John and gave Mycroft a steady look as the elder tried to absorb the astounding news of his son’s unexpected success, “Mary will need a minder as well as supervised time away from the flat whenever Sherlock needs her gone. I was thinking maybe Mrs. Hudson could help, but we need more than one person. Soon, today if you can manage.”

"I have just the person," Sherlock told them. "Lestrade. He retired from the force last year and opened his own agency. He works with two idiots but he is of slightly above average intelligence."

Mycroft’s eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly, “Yes, I seem to recall the man vaguely.” John doubted that. If Mycroft was aware of Lestrade it would be more than vague. Mycroft probably knew more about Greg Lestrade than anyone by now. John could smell the interest in the elder Alpha though his face said nothing. His pheromones could not lie.

"He was married to an Alpha female for a long time. They have no children together but she has five children to which he is attached. I believe they stayed together because the children loved him and he didn't care that they weren't his. He took suppressants and contraceptives so that he could be in the police force but I believe he used to take leave to visit one of those Omega whore houses. A practical man," Sherlock commented.

John sighed, “He didn’t want to bond with anyone Sherlock. Those aren’t whore houses, he can’t help going into heat. At least there he can get a clean healthy Alpha to help him without risk!” John had gotten to know the silver-haired Omega a bit in the short time he’d worked with him. John was a friendly fellow and had not hit on the DI even once which earned Lestrade’s relieved approval. Most Alpha’s tried to get with any Omega within arm’s reach the second they were alone but John wasn’t like that, even before he’d met Sherlock. Still, Sherlock wasn’t entirely wrong. Alphas paid good money to be with an Omega during their heat and the Omegas received a portion of the earnings after they left. The houses earned a fortune providing a room that would keep the pairs safe during estrus.

Sherlock looked up at John and it finally clicked. Of course, John would be sensitive to this subject. He was an Alpha who had sold himself. Sherlock put his hand over John's on his shoulder. "I don't see you as a whore, John. You are family."

John stood stiffly behind his Omega. He was a whore, even if he’d been paid to be with a single person. He’d been paid and had used the money he had so sorely needed to square away all the problems he’d had before moving in with Sherlock burden free. Harry had taken most of it, her last rehab center wasn’t cheap and she had provided all his information so that the creditors had hounded him instead of her. What little he had left he had been saving for his future children, if he’d not bonded with Sherlock. It wasn’t much but it would have been enough to keep a small family for a short while. He didn’t know what to say, “Thank you Sherlock.” he said gravely instead.

"Don't be sentimental, Sherlock. Of course he is a whore. But what is wrong with that? We prostitute our minds," Mycroft said. 

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with," Sherlock replied. "But John is family. He is my Alpha, Mycroft and like it or not, you must accept him."

Mycroft dipped his head a bit to show his understanding and John recollected that Mycroft had already once submitted to him, allowing John to be the primary Alpha. “I will speak to Mr. Lestrade personally. Perhaps we can engage him for the entirety of the pregnancy.” John nodded, if there had to be yet another Omega around he’d prefer at least it be someone he could be chummy with without everyone thinking there was anything untoward going on. To think, two months ago John had no one and nothing; he’d been alone in the world! Now here he was planning to move into a bigger house because he was expecting two children at the same time and was now in contact with more Omega than he knew what to do with. Mycroft produced a folded sheaf of papers, “Your copy of her contract.”

Sherlock looked surprised. "That is most civil of you, Mycroft."

Mycroft smiled. "I am dear brother, not your enemy, thought it amuses you to think of me as such."

Sherlock sniffed and would not answer. However he did pick up the contract and began to read it closely. They heard slippered feet on the stairs and Mary shuffled in wearing her robe and pajamas, looking a bit green and unwell. “Coffee?” she asked hopefully.

Mycroft poured her ginger tea from the pot on the table. "No more coffee. I have informed my brother and his Alpha of your condition. You will not be going to work until suitable security can be arranged," Mycroft informed her. "I do hope you are the type of person who can live without cable TV. By the way, John, the family trust will provide everything for the baby." Mycroft handed John a credit card, “but if you are tempted, anything that is not related to the baby will be extracted from your personal account."

Mary looked purely shocked and stared at both John and Sherlock with dismay. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to tell until the first trimester was over?”

"My brother is very perceptive. He would have noticed long before then," Mycroft said. Sherlock grinned. "For the baby's sake you will eat only what John deems appropriate. No coffee, no smoking, not unauthorized drugs. You are after all carrying a Holmes."

There was one more piece of business but John didn’t feel ready to broach it yet. Instead he began to fuss over Sherlock, taking comfort in his Omega, finding it almost distressing to be in the same room with Mary when he’d promised to avoid her as much as possible. Still, bargains had been made and needed to be kept by all parties, “When the clinic is ready you will assist me, until then you are fully at Sherlock’s disposal. We’ll be busy with The Work, but Sherlock will be in charge of sorting out your time when we’re not here.”

"Um...Wha..?! WHAT!?" Mary went from ‘did I hear right?’ to yelling protest in three words. 

"You are contracted to us until the baby is born," Sherlock stated.

“Wait, yes, I know THAT part but where does it say every minute of my day belongs to someone else?” Mary clearly hadn’t understood the conditions contracted Omega lived under. The wording was standard but she was a Beta, perhaps she didn’t realize how laden with meaning each simple word was. John’s contract with Sherlock was actually very liberal, as was John. The doctor had no interest in fettering his insatiably curious mate. He intended to cheer Sherlock on every step of the way. If he had met Mary under vastly different circumstance, he might have liked her enough to date. He would have treated her as decently and fairly as he could, not because she was a Beta but because John simply thought everyone should be treated that way. However, Mary had signed a very specific document that laid out very specific conditions. How they manifested should not have startled her.

"Didn't your solicitor explain the contract?" Sherlock asked. Even Mycroft seemed to be enjoying this as he settled himself at the kitchen table as if he was not going to leave with such amusing entertainment going on.

Mary numbly shook her head. John was amazed. Even he’d had the free barrister at the veteran’s association look over his contract before he signed. John understood it but wanted to find out if there had been any hidden implications buried in the legal jargon. There hadn’t been. Mary had obviously not taken the same care. John heaved a sigh, “I’ll come up a with a meal plan. You and Mrs. Hudson can deal with the shopping. Mycroft will arrange someone to escort you. Don’t worry; everything will be taken care of.” Everything.

"But, I'm not a prisoner..." she replied, "I didn't sign up for having to live here and do what you tell me. I'm just having your baby for you and arranging your wedding." 

Mycroft looked to John. "I know of a very good home for pregnant unbonded Omegas where she will be very well cared for." 

"I'm not an Omega!" 

"They take in destitute pregnant Betas as well," Mycroft informed her. 

"I'm not destitute!" 

"Break this contract and you will have to leave the country to get work, oh but you won't have enough money to leave the country, or a passport. Jersey might take you in." Mycroft said.

Sherlock put the contract down, “The second you accepted the implant you legally gave ownership of yourself and your possessions to this family. You sold yourself to us. I have no interest in your money but you shall not have it until that child is in our arms. You will wear what we give you to wear, you will eat what we give you to eat, and you will do what you are allowed to do. This is how Omega live Mary. Welcome to my world.”

"Omegas won equal rights over 50 years ago!" Mary growled. "You aren't slaves." 

"Omegas are ill-educated, and do not have access to solicitors when they are forced to sign contracts which virtually enslave them to their Alphas," Sherlock replied. "We are at the mercy of our families and do not have the ability to be self-made unless it is with the approval of our families, specifically the highest Alpha in the family. You carry my child. I am John Watson's Omega, therefore he is YOUR Alpha," Sherlock informed her.

Mary looked at John with an almost sick expression. John was stern. As far as he was concerned she was Sherlock’s to deal with. He might technically be her Alpha but he would never act on his rights, never with her. Ever. Once the child arrived Mary would leave and that would be it as far as John knew. “I’m VERY well-educated! I know my rights.”

“No Miss Morstan. You KNEW your rights. You don’t know them anymore.” Sherlock slid his copy of the contract across the table to her, “You see but you do not observe. You specifically requested to be kept as an Omega based on the statute that existed BEFORE the equality ruling. Since you specifically used THAT law to express your interest it means that you have legally accepted being treated as though you were the Omega of a wealthy family, oh, about two hundred years ago. What were Omega rights then? Oh yes. Non-existent!” The law she had accepted in her contract was missing the revision designation for the more recent ruling. She had not paid attention.

"You don't own me!" Mary snapped. 

"No, John does," Sherlock replied. He pulled the shoulder of his dressing gown away enough to show the bite, which was a nicely healing scar thanks to John's attentions. “But since stress is bad for the child you carry, you will be well cared for." Sherlock reached out and patted her hand just as she had done to him recently. "There, there, dear. Don't worry. Your Alpha will take very good care of you. You will want for nothing."

Mary looked sick. Mycroft slid over a cup of now cold ginger tea, “Drink my dear Mary. We want to keep you feeling nice and cozy.” He gave her a cold smile and sat back, very well pleased that he was now waiting for not one, but two possible heirs. “While we wait for your escort, what about a little wedding planning, since we’re all here?” That was the end of that conversation. Mary had nowhere to go and nothing to get her there if she did. She had done it to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always read the fine print!


	26. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well Mary has been successfully moved in so Baker Street has never been so filled with people!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOCKS!  
> ~Gwerinos

Three months had put a small swell at the bottom of Sherlock's stomach but nothing a little clever tailoring couldn't hide. The morning sickness had passed quickly and now Sherlock bore an almost sweet glow to him. Mary wasn't faring quite so well. Her morning sickness lingered, and her need for regular doses of the compensating hormones she lacked as a Beta had kept her feeling poorly. Sherlock surprisingly was very helpful.

Lestrade, her constant companion became her friend, which she couldn't say about Donovan who as an Alpha treated her with worse than distaste. 

"It can't be the victim, Sherlock. It's in the rules," Greg said showing him the sheet of paper. 

Sherlock took them from Greg's hand and ripped the page in two and threw it in the fire.

There was a polite knock at the front door which kept John from asking Sherlock to settle down. He left his gravid mate scowling on the sofa and answered the door himself. His protective urges had only grown as the weeks went by but some had softened, “Mycroft! Come in. Everyone’s in the front room.”

The elder Alpha followed John, greeting everyone in the room very congenially, saving his last hello for Greg Lestrade, “Good morning Gregory, I trust all is well with your charge?” Mycroft always checked in about Mary, sometimes needing to speak to Lestrade several times a day. 

"As always," Greg replied. "Care to finish the game with us? Sherlock has dropped out due to temper tantrums. 

"I'm right here. You could ask me," Mary said as she put tea down in front of Mycroft as he took the seat that Sherlock had vacated. 

"That would be a gross neglect of proper etiquette," Mycroft replied. "I do not have John's permission to speak to you directly."

Mary rolled her eyes and shot a look at John who ignored her, “Mycroft can keep getting his reports from Lestrade. He can ask you questions if he feels like it though, when you’re all together. Mycroft? Any burning questions for Sherlock and I?” John was in a bit of a mood. The wedding was soon and all the last minute details were getting on his nerves. Living with two moody pregnant people was no treat either, and neither had been trying to find a place to relocate.

Sherlock and Mary both rubbed each other the wrong way one minute and got along famously the next. John didn’t know which way to turn, normally settling the matter by behaving as if Mary didn’t even exist because Sherlock’s jealousy had definitely escalated. 

After playing along for the first month Mary got antsy. She had already tried to use any number of people to contact the world outside the Holmes estates and holdings. She seemed very intent on getting away on her own for at least an afternoon but Sherlock would not permit it, not for a minute.

Mary had still not realized that Sherlock was pregnant though she had suspected the first day she was living with them. After that there was little indication that Sherlock was anything but unwell for a time. She put Sherlock's weird behaviour down to his natural state of being a weird Omega. "I have actually come with word that Mommy has arranged an engagement party, for next Saturday night. Your clothes will arrive on Thursday, including shoes and socks for John. He pointedly looked at John's orange and purple striped socks. 

"What is wrong with John's socks? I bought him those socks," Sherlock protested without even turning to look at which socks John was wearing. 

"Jumpers are not permitted," Mycroft added.

“I am perfectly capable of dressing my Alpha!” fumed Sherlock, “Cancel everything! I’ll choose John’s dinner-wear, not you!”

Mycroft smiled tolerantly at Sherlock, very few things riled Mycroft when it came to Sherlock these days. Now Mycroft was nearly placid with his fractious son and pandered to his moods easily, “Very well. You may contact whichever clothier you deem suitable but John must be dressed to Mummy’s standards and not yours! You don’t want to embarrass John do you?”

Mycroft turned to Greg who suddenly looked nervous, “I don’t need a fancy suit. Mary and I will be just fine here.”

“Oh no my dear Gregory, both Mary and yourself will be part of the festivities. After all it is a family event and she does have family to represent.” Mycroft looked meaningfully at her slightly curved belly. “Your clothes will still be arriving. If there is a problem with the fit, please do not hesitate to call my tailor. Here is his card.” Mycroft handed Greg a small business card slowly before turning to Mary, “You my dear shall be dressed suitably as well. Your clothes will arrive the day before the party.”

"Don't I get a say?" Mary asked. 

"Of course, my dear. They will bring several dresses for you to pick from," Mycroft replied. "And thank you for the tea. Now, how does one play this game?" 

"Since Sherlock just burnt the rules, we will have to show you by demonstration," Greg replied. "John, it is your turn."

Sherlock jumped up instead and snatched at John’s hand, pulling his Alpha tight to him. “No. I’m not playing anymore. We have to go shopping. You take care of Mary, we’ll be back later.” dragging John after him Sherlock marched away.

John allowed himself to be hauled along at a rapid pace until they were a fair distance from their new home, “Are we actually going shopping?”

As the door to 221B closed and then walked down the street, Sherlock replied. "Mycroft knows very well that there is not enough time for a tailor to alter clothes, that's why he waited until now to tell us of the arrangements. Mycroft's interest in Lestrade was becoming annoying. Couldn't you smell it?"

“I try not to smell your brother. It’s sort of a little rule with me.” said John. “You’re serious?”

"Yes, and I would encourage it if it was not that he fills the flat up with Alpha pheromones which are not yours. Besides that, I need the exercise and walking helps with all the extra aches and pains which pregnancy causes me. Let's talk about our new place. I would like a private yard, but that is an unreasonable request in London. I will be very sorry to leave 221 B. I am rather fond of it. Can you think of a way to stay?"

“Well honestly, I have given it some thought. Mrs. Turner wants to retire, Mrs. Hudson was talking to Greg about it. We could buy her part of the building and apply for the permits to modify it into a single bigger residence. Mycroft must know the people that can make that happen. Mary can stay with Mrs. Hudson during the renovations which shouldn’t be too much since we’re basically knocking down one wall and installing a door. We’d have twice as much space and we can make a proper nursery for both children plus have lots of room for the nanny and nurse. What do you think love?” It would also provide a much greater distance between themselves and Mary if they could sequester her in her own apartment. If they bought Mrs. Turner out that would give them three full flats to utilize though her basement flat wasn’t in much better condition than 221 C had been.

"Excellent! I could set up a proper laboratory in the basement flat so that I don't have to run off to Bart's all the time. How are the builders coming along with your surgery?"

“It was a bit of slow going there for a while, they had an issue with the drains but it’s all sorted out now. The plaster has been redone and now we’re just waiting on the flooring to be finished.” Sherlock knew what was going on in the surgery but he liked to hear John speak of it because John was really looking forward to working as a doctor again. He missed it and as much as he loved doting on his mate John had a strong urge to help people. 

"By the way, you have been doing a very good job of distracting me from my work. I have barely been bored the last couple of months," Sherlock said with a smile. Only 3 or 4 times a day, John thought.

“I’m glad love, I know you don’t like to be bored.” John had never had to work so hard to keep someone entertained in his life. It had gotten slightly easier though because Sherlock was perfectly content to do whatever John was doing so if John read then Sherlock did too, they watched movies, went for walks, visited Molly at the morgue, and had long talks with Mycroft.

He was mentoring John, not that John wanted it. If Sherrinford decided to confront the smaller Alpha Mycroft had uncharacteristically decided to cede his claim as the lead Alpha for their immediate family, and as soon as Sherlock publicly announced his pregnancy John would formally assume his role. John really, really didn’t want that. Mycroft would do all the work the way he normally did, controlling their world from behind the scenes but John would be the final authority. It intimidated him.

It was unfortunately the way of things in their society, and when it came down to it very few people wanted it changed. Some Omegas wanted more freedom, some Omegas wanted less responsibility. Betas as always fought against the Alphas and some Alphas wanted complete control but none of the responsibility. At least Mycroft shouldered the responsibility when he managed things. John was thoroughly immersed in his thoughts on the society that he didn't notice the Omega barreling towards them in a mixture of terror and glee until he had his arms full of a very dirty, thin and clingy omega. "Jeremy, what's happened to you?" Sherlock asked.

Jeremy was unable to speak. As soon as John was holding him the small man burst into loud tears and sobbed into John’s jumper. Sherlock moved closer and stroked the distressed man’s back, his gravid state encouraging him to be more sensitive to the emotional needs of others. He seemed surprised by it but didn’t stop until Jeremy finally blubbered to a final phlegm filled hiccup. John pulled away and looked at the man, “Jeremy, can you tell us what happened?”

"Charles...he died. Chad took me to an Omega house when my heat started. He said he didn't know what else to do. I ran away," Jeremy told them.

Oh god Jeremy! John felt terrible for the simple man who had loved his new Alpha so much. He was crying again and he smelled horrible. John took him right back home, Sherlock safely tucked against him as they escorted the weak and weary Omega to safety. Mary was a nurse and for once helped without complaining about it. Together they checked Jeremy over, “Jeremy, I know this is difficult but did anyone find you during your heat?” John prayed no one had abused the sweet man.

"No, a nice man called Wiggins found me. He hid me and brought me some food and water. He said something about paying it forward for someone who had helped him," Jeremy told them. 

"Bill, yes I know him. He often works for me," Sherlock said. Mycroft silently excused himself and left.

Before they asked more questions John let Jeremy use the bathroom to take a long hot shower while John put together an easy to digest meal for him. Jeremy obviously had not eaten enough for a long time, he would need to be fed carefully. John felt awful for Jeremy. He wasn’t attracted to the man but he was something like a little brother. He needed help and John could give it, “Sherlock.” he called his mate closer to discuss the matter.

"Normally I would not suggest this, but we can't just throw him back to the streets. Omegas don't last long on the streets unless they become bonded to someone and Alphas on the streets are not nice people," Sherlock told John.

John was so relieved, “He’s a good person who hasn’t had anyone to look out for him. Sherlock, maybe we can see about that flat Mrs. Turner has downstairs. It shouldn’t be too difficult to make it habitable. We can talk to Mycroft about our other plans but I want to give Jeremy someplace safe to live, somewhere we can still see that he’s alright. I know it’s a lot to ask from you but maybe you can even think about keeping him with us, you know, to help with the babies.”

"In return," Sherlock huffed as he saw having his own lab delayed. "I will not hear a single word about me doing experiments in the kitchen."

“Not one word love, I’ll even go to the morgue and get you anything you need, I promise.” John kissed his pouting mate tenderly, “You’re a good man Sherlock Holmes, a good person.”

Sherlock kissed him back. "And you will find him a nice Alpha to take care of his heats."

“Yes love, someone Jeremy approves of.” John was going to help Jeremy realize he didn’t need an Alpha to make his decisions for him but his biology would make certain demands soon enough. A good Alpha would need to be located because John certainly wasn’t helping with that!

"Your clothes are more his size, though he is a bit taller than you," Sherlock said suggestively. John sighed and went to find him something to wear, before Sherlock could dress the Omega in John's favourite clothes.

Sherlock took John’s selection and just walked into the bathroom with no regard to Jeremy’s privacy. John could hear a muted conversation going on and suddenly he could smell Mary. She was standing right behind him, “I need to go in, are you waiting for something?”

“Jeremy is showering. Sherlock’s having a talk with him.” Mary gave him a strange look and butted past him to go up to her room. She left him standing along but with her scent now smeared across his arm. Sherlock stepped out of the bathroom the second the door to Mary’s room clicked shut.

He immediately smelt Mary's scent on John. He didn't say anything but Sherlock was fuming. He went to his violin and played.

John stripped off his shirt and threw it in the laundry, before he pulled on a new one he went to the kitchen and used the sink there to wash his arm thoroughly before redressing. When he was done he went and sat near Sherlock, patiently waiting for Sherlock to acknowledge him.

"How soon can you arrange for us to have the use of Mrs Turner's building?"

“I don’t know, how much can you aggravate your brother until he uses his connections to make it happen?” said John, “The sooner the better I’d say.” he wanted their privacy back and at the same time they really did need the extra space.

Sherlock put down his violin and pulled out his phone. "Mycroft." 

"Can't do without me these days, little brother?" Mycroft said. "I'm not even back at my office yet. 

"Well when you get there, rent Mrs. Turner's flats for our use. There are far too many people coming in and out of my flat. I want them moved. She has three flats and a bedsit, though I believe she is still living in one." 

"What on earth are you going to do with three flats?" Mycroft asked. 

"John and I are not moving. We are extending, instead," Sherlock replied. "Very well, Mummy won't like it but I will call back as soon as it is arranged." 

"When it is arranged, arrange for movers to move Mary asap." 

"I thought you were getting along with Mary. What happened? Did she flirt with John?" Sherlock hung up.

John felt better just knowing he wouldn’t be squeezed into 221 B with anyone but his beautiful mate. He was suddenly anxious to have time alone, it had been far too long. “I love you Sherlock. If Mycroft gets things done quickly enough we might have time to get everyone sorted before the wedding.”


	27. Busy Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has made it all the way to the day of his engagement. All he has to do now is survive until the party starts.

It was the morning of the engagement party and John had to run down the road for milk. They were out as usual. He swore that Mary must bath in the stuff. She was in the bath and Sherlock was in the sitting room when it happened. John had just purchased the milk when glass shattered in on the store and all the building around them. The air sucked away and suddenly there was no sound. All of it came back in a deafening roar filled with the almost metallic plink of the glass as it hit everything in its path as it scattered.

The noise reminded John of the war and he ducked for cover instinctively. Old memories rushed in and for a micro-second John was back in battle, reliving those moments when you knew that each bullet that passed you by was both a blessing and a curse because that was one less bullet to go before one got you. Then blind panic set in and he ran down the debris littered street towards 221B. Sherlock! The baby! He needed to know they were safe and he moved as fast as he could, his bad leg aching the way it hadn’t in so long.

Sherlock was on the floor, covered in shards of glass and soil from the window boxes outside. John’s heart simply stopped and horror drained everything from him. No, not his precious Sherlock! No, this couldn’t be happening. Sherlock wasn’t moving and John forced himself to step forward, reaching out with a shaking hand and trying to speak his mate’s name.

John nearly screamed when Sherlock simply popped up off the floor, shaking off his dressing gown and hair, “From the trajectory of the debris combined with the force it took to shatter glass from this distance I’d say we’d better get down the street right now before anyone has a chance to mess up the evidence!” Sherlock was wearing his house-shoes and tried to run out the door past the still stunned John.

John instincts said to grab Sherlock and hang on despite Sherlock's protests. "Sherlock, NO! Not this time. You have got to put your shoes on and some clothes at least." He went with John into the bedroom John locked the door to the bathroom and took the key before he went out the hall door and shut it. Sherlock was distracted by dressing when he heard the key in the lock. He rushed over to it.

"John! Open this door."

"I will in a minute," John said. "Mary, are you still in the bath?"

"Yes, what was that? Is everything alright?" she asked.

"I don't know yet, but do not come out here in bare feet or slippers until I clear up some of this glass. Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. But Sherlock was in the sitting room. Is he okay?" she asked.

“He seems fine but I need to get him properly checked out, I’m calling Greg in to sit with you.” John went back to the bedroom only to find Sherlock in a massive temper, most of his clothes torn from his wardrobe. He was standing on them as he pulled on one of his shirts, tucking it into his suit trousers. He made a show of putting his socks and shoes on and then stood there scowling at John while he put on his coat. “Now can we go John? Only the entire police force and emergency personnel are stepping all over everything that can tell us who did this. Look, our socks match. Happy?”

"No. We are going straight to the clinic to have you checked out," John said in his clearest and sternest Alpha voice.

"Is that an order, Captain?"

"It is an order and as your doctor I insist."

“John you are being completely unreasonable! The evidence….” John cut Sherlock right off.

“The evidence can go hang!” John stepped closer to his mate and hissed softly, “The baby Sherlock, you were just blown up. We have to check the baby. Now!”

Sherlock paled and clutched at his stomach. His voice was now soft and worried, “John?”

“Let’s go love, right now.” John took Sherlock’s arm in his and they made their way quickly to the clinic. Lestrade was already outside the door, alarm on his face, “Mary’s in the bath. She said she’s alright. Go check.”

Lestrade nodded and dashed inside. Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Turner had thankfully been off on one of their many little trips; John wasn’t looking forward to hearing their reaction about the damage to their building. Sherlock was now clinging to John and urging him towards Mike’s office as soon as they arrived at the hospital, bypassing the very full emergency ward.

"I'd ask to keep him overnight but we are so busy and he would drive everyone up the wall," Mike said to John out of Sherlock's hearing. "Everything seems alright. He has minor bruising, I expect from hitting the floor. I removed a couple of slivers of glass from his back. If this is likely to be a regular thing, I would recommend getting shatterproof glass in your windows."

"We have to go, now, John. Lestrade just phoned and said there was a delivery for me," Sherlock said as he came out of the examination room.

John took one fretful look back at Mike who just nodded his head, indicating that Sherlock really was fine. The taxi couldn’t take them all the way back to Baker Street but it wasn’t a long walk. John kept his hand on the small of Sherlock’s back and the Omega had his arm draped over John’s shoulder. The way his fingers gripped at the material of John’s coat was the only indication of Sherlock’s anxiety.

Mary was sitting in the now clean sitting room watching tv. "Oh, Sherlock are you alright?" Sherlock nodded silently and went straight to the kitchen where Lestrade was making a mess with graphite as he dusted the envelope for fingerprints while Mycroft looked on.

"Don't you have work to do?" Sherlock asked him. Mycroft looked to John for confirmation that Sherlock was alright. John smiled and nodded. Lestrade handed Sherlock the envelope. It was the sort that you buy over the counter in the post office, lined in bubble wrap. They all stared at the bubble wrap with a sudden instinct to be children and discard it's contents and pop the bubbles. Sherlock inspected the inner envelope carefully. He held it up to the light, he sniffed it. "Good quality stationary. There will be no finger prints on this." He opened it and the pink phone dropped out into his hand. Sherlock immediately went to the drawer of his desk. The pink phone was still there.

"Isn't that..." John started.

"No," Sherlock replied. "Similar but not the pink phone." It suddenly rang.

Sherlock grabbed it up, examining the screen, “Blocked.” was all he said before answering. An electronically distorted message stuttered out, made of audio clips stolen from famous movies. An address was given and a time limit.

Sherlock wrote down the address and handed it to Mycroft. "I believe I will require the police at this address. I have been given 12 hours."

"For what?"

"I don't know," Sherlock replied. Whatever it is I must go to that address to discover. John?" He put his gloves back on. "Get someone to board up those windows until the glacier can come. It is freezing in here."

Catching up with Sherlock before the man could leave without him John texted Anthea to bring in a secure company to redo the windows. He had to run to catch up with Sherlock who was already climbing into a taxi. “Wait up! You aren’t going without me!”

Sherlock scooted across the seat to let John in and gave the cabbie an address. "Lots of business at Baker Street this morning. Gas pipe burst they say," said the cabbie.

Sherlock gave a sniff and simply told the man to drive with all speed to the address given. “You are going to be CAREFUL Sherlock, no running off unless I’m right with you! No arguing.” for heaven’s sake Sherlock should be at home resting! Now they were off on some kind of strange chase. Again!

Not only did the police arrive at the address shortly after Sherlock but so did Lestrade. "I've handed Mary over to Donovan for the day, to do ladies stuff."

"Ladies stuff?" John asked.

"Hairdresser and the like for tonight. Thanks for the invite by the way. I just love spending my evening off with a bunch of toffs."

"You're welcome," John replied.

"SHUT UP! I'M THINKING." Sherlock yelled at them. He was examining a pair of shoes sitting in the middle of the floor.

"Careful, Sherlock. This guy is a bomber."

“Will you kindly stop chattering?” Sherlock began muttering to himself, shutting his eyes to think briefly before shifting around and examining the shoes closely. “Familiar. Why are they familiar?”

John lost Sherlock for the rest of the day. John practically had to dress him since Sherlock was so lost in thought about those shoes. "Sherlock!" John complained for the hundredth time that day as Sherlock rushed into the kitchen to examine something under the microscope in nothing but his underwear, startling and amusing the ladies.

Mrs. Hudson looked fondly at Sherlock as John shooed him back into the bedroom to dress, “You’re looking so healthy these days Sherlock. It’s so good of John to keep you nice and full, not like the old days when your tummy was empty all the time.”

“Got to be careful Sherlock, at your age jelly bellies are hard to get rid of.” Mary was leafing through a bridal magazine. Mrs. Hudson made a disapproving sound but Mary ignored it and smiled to herself.

Donovan laughed. "Your boyfriend feeding you up, Freak?"

John stopped dead in his tracks and turned slowly to face Donovan, his hand urging Sherlock to continue to the bedroom. For once Sherlock didn’t argue, realizing that he was flaunting himself in front of others and his Alpha did not care for that at all. “What did you just call my mate?”

"Freak," Donovan said. "You got yourself an inhuman mate there, doctor. He doesn't love you. He is incapable of feeling. You haven't seen him on the cases that I have."

Suddenly there was no air in the room because John had taken all of it. He seemed to fill every available space and from where he still stood John managed to loom menacingly over Sally Donovan, “I don’t care what your personal opinions about my mate are. You have no idea, no idea at all what Sherlock Holmes is like. You think you understand him because you’ve watched him work? You judge him _because_ he did your job for you or because he did it _better_ than you ever could? You will never refer to my mate as _freak_ ever again.” John wasn’t asking. The rich dominant undertones of his Alpha nature rang out, coating his words with iron. Sally shrank back into her seat looking cowed.

Sally was an Alpha, trained by the police to stand strong in such situations but John was something different altogether. She was shaking when she replied. "If this wasn't your home..." she said as half a threat.

“It is my home. You are right in the middle of my home, so what do you think you should be saying right now Sally Donovan, for insulting my mate?” John’s voice was soft, almost quiet.

Somehow she managed to get to her feet. "Fuck this. This babysitting isn't proper detective work. Fuck this job," she said and walked out.

Mary looked dismayed as Donovan did her best to storm out angrily but only succeeded in a bit of shamed scuttling as she avoided John’s glare. Mrs. Hudson patted Mary’s hand, “Don’t worry dear, Greg will still be around.”

"Oh, I haven't asked. Is Jeremy alright?" Mary asked.

"Yes, dear. He is quite happy next door with Mrs. Turner and her boys," Mrs. Hudson replied.

John was so grateful that his neighbors saw fit to look out for Jeremy, William Scott, the Omega of the pair, was very motherly and cooed over the distraught man, and tried to sooth him as much as possible. His Alpha, Hamish, was like John and saw Jeremy like a little brother that needed caring for and was more than content to let his mate fuss over the bereaved man. It seemed to make both of them happy. Sherlock came out, finally fully dressed and went straight back to the kitchen.

He pulled out his phone and called the mysterious challenger. Then he rang the yard and gave them the address to where his 'hostage' was waiting to be rescued. "Now for the engagement party," Sherlock said. He was right on time as the cars sent to pick everyone up arrived. "Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said offering her his arm.

Mary looked a bit put out because it had taken her all day to get ready for the evening. Sherlock had strolled into his room with John, gotten into his party suit, ruffled his hair and was ready. John took a minute to re-shave but he was ready nearly as fast as Sherlock was. John held the door for everyone, Lestrade escorting Mary. Once they were all inside the long black cars that waited for them their small entourage was on its way.

The pink phone rang again. Sherlock answered and listened. He looked at John who was sitting with Mary across the limo. "Sherlock?" John asked.

"Another case. I can't refuse or someone will die. But at least we won't miss the party. The address given was the reception rooms," Sherlock said.

"Why is this bomber ringing you and not the police?" Mary asked.

"Because it isn't about the bombs. The people are irrelevant to him. He is challenging me," Sherlock replied.

John felt sick. Someone was playing deadly games with his mate and Sherlock was intrigued. “What do you need?” John was going to help Sherlock instead of turning the car around and bringing him directly home like his instincts wanted him to. Sherlock would never forgive him for treating him like a helpless individual who couldn’t take a challenge. All John could do was protect his lover and children to the best of his abilities.

"For a start we must be more careful. Mary and I should never travel together again. We should alert the police but I will leave that to Lestrade. They are more likely to follow his lead than mine. When we get there look for anything out of the ordinary. You will be introduced to some very important people tonight, John. Pay attention to them. They will be useful in the years to come. Remember at this level of society friends are not the mates you drink with but who has influence where you need it," Sherlock told him.

John understood his engagement party was a war zone. There would be smiles and teeth aplenty showing tonight, all of them on sharks who circled his world hoping for a trace of blood in the water. “We’ll arrange everything the way you suggest; from now on we’ll keep both of you in different places.” That would be a relief. It was getting difficult to ignore Mary, she smelled of his child and John wanted to watch over his baby. “I’ll play nice tonight, I promise not to embarrass you.”

"Remember no dancing and watch your drink. Eat the cheese, it will help delay any reaction to alcohol. Keep people's attention on you so I can do my job in peace," Sherlock told him. "Mary...you will do brilliantly," he smiled genuinely.

Mary wasn’t very happy about being made to go. She was about to be paraded around like a prize brood mare, completely dehumanized because only the fetus would matter to the people who deigned to speak with her this evening. Lestrade would be by her side every second and Mycroft seemed to be enjoying the silver-haired man’s company more than ever these days. Mary nodded, “Thanks.” was all she said before falling silent.

John handed Mary over to Lestrade. "Take her home when she wants to go and stay with her," John told him. "If you have to go to the loo, bring her over to me or Sherlock."

"Sounds like you think something will happen to her tonight," Lestrade frowned.

"Sherlock got another call from the bomber. He gave this address so ring your mates at the Yard and bring in reinforcements if you have to."

“Jesus John!” Lestrade wasted no time. He called the Yard and had people sent over the engagement party. Mary was looking nervous but Lestrade reassured her, “No one is going to get past Sherlock, John, AND Mycroft. We’ll be fine.” he included himself as someone to be protected to cheer her up.

Sherlock was already doing his bit of greeting or being greeted by the crowd. John had a sudden wave of nervousness. But Mycroft took his arm and charged through the crowd with him, introducing him to people everywhere until they were safely at the bar.


	28. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another familial formality must be endured regardless of what else is going on. John has obligations to honor.

There were Alphas everywhere, strong, confident, and powerful. All of them looked over John and their instinctive need to sort out a pecking order finding his height to be a delicious target. Sherlock had been coveted by many even though most of the Alphas found him personally distasteful. He was beautiful and belonged to a prestigious bloodline; that would have been enough. His personality could have been beaten out of him with a less kind Alpha but Mycroft had never allowed any of them to court his only child, declaring his 'little brother' off limits. More than one Alpha's face twisted with surprise as they smelled Sherlock bonded and bred the way no one thought he could be.

Mary was being taken around, shown off by Mycroft. There were many nods of approval, breeding to perpetuate your bloodline was the whole point after all, however you got your offspring wasn't goal, having as many viable children as you could was the idea. She was treated as a wealthy Omega which meant everyone talked to Mycroft, and treated her as if she were a particularly intelligent pet, amusing but not really worth talking to directly.

John annoyed all the other Alphas by continually chatting with Sherlock who picked apart all the illogical statements given to him by other Omegas. Most of the ones in attendance were poor souls who had been trained since presentation to be submissive and almost cow-like. Sherlock was more than a little bit of a shock but still managed not to grossly offend anyone but played up John heavily. If anything Sherlock was on his very best behavior and John was glowing with pride. His mate was the most fascinating person around.

"Sherlock," Lestrade came to him about 11.30. We only have until midnight." 

"I am well aware of that. But there are too many variables. Everyone here hides any number of secrets," Sherlock replied. 

"Then who isn't here who should be?" John asked. "Or who is here that shouldn't be?" asked Lestrade.

Everyone began to smile around, trying to sort out the information they picked as they scrutinized the crowds without staring overtly at any one person. Sherlock of course took in more than Lestrade and John put together with every glance and finally fixated on a female omega standing quietly in the corner. There was no Alpha near her.

"Molly?" John frowned. "You invited her?" 

"No," Sherlock replied. "Why would I invite her to be under the scrutiny of such people? They would think nothing of insulting her for being here."

John rather liked Molly. She was a bit dotty for Sherlock but she was no threat, especially not now. Taking his mate’s hand John allowed Sherlock to lead him to her, “Molly, you look lovely this evening. I didn’t expect to see you here.” John smiled warmly at her, trying to encourage her to look at them.

Molly smiled. "I could see you were busy social networking so I tried to stay out of everyone's way. 

"It was really surprising to get the invitation. I didn't know you had an older brother, except for Mycroft." 

"Do you have your invitation with you? Do you mind if I look at it?" Sherlock was surprisingly polite. Molly pulled the card out of her purse and handed it to Sherlock. "I didn't crash the party." 

"No, of course not," John soothed. "It's just Jim couldn't make it at the last minute." 

"Jim?" Sherlock asked. 

"Moriarty. He's my boyfriend."

Sherlock looked at Molly with interest, “Who received the invitation, you or Moriarty.” 

"Me," Molly replied. "I thought that it was a bit strange. But I wasn't sure about well...this is all a bit above me," she said indicating the people of the party.

John nodded in understanding. This was the last place he’d consider coming to if he wanted to go to a party and it was done especially for them. Unlike the wedding, the engagement party was for the social benefit of the Holmes family and an appropriate show-stopping event had been organized. A discrete servant came and tugged on Sherlock’s sleeve, nodding toward the stage. It was time for John and Sherlock to do their part.

"Time for you to meet Mummy and Daddy, John," Sherlock said and slipped his arm into the crook of John's. "Lead on My Alpha." John looked at Lestrade and nodded towards Molly and Mary.

Their procession wound its way through the crowd, everyone falling silent as John was formally presented to his mate’s parents. Sherlock and John stood side by side, hands entangled as Mycroft stepped forward and gave a small bow to his parents, “I have the honor of presenting to you the bound mate of Sherlock Holmes, Captain John Hamish Watson, MD, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Doctor Watson, I have the honor of presenting my bearer, Sieger Augustus Holmes. I have the honor of presenting my sire, Violet St. Claire Holmes.” Mycroft stepped back and for the first time John was publicly scrutinized by his inlaws.

Violet stepped forward and taking John's shoulders in her hands she kissed his cheek. "Welcome to the Holmes family," she said loud enough for the microphone to pick up. There were cheers all around and no one seemed to notice that Sherlock and Sieger were hugging and fussing over each other like normal Omegas.

“I thank you for your welcome and hereby swear to always uphold the ancient standards of the Holmes lineage. To demonstrate my commitment I formally offer to take the hand of Omega Sherlock Holmes to be my legally wedded husband.” John was NOT going to call Sherlock his wife though he could. Sherlock was a man, and just because he was an Omega didn’t mean John was going to forget he was a person, especially now. He’d made the change in his mind and told no one, now it was too late for anyone to tell him he couldn’t. Everyone had already heard.

"To John and Sherlock," Mycroft said raising his glass. The rest of the attendees followed. When Mycroft put his glass down Sherlock did something that no one expected. He turned to Mycroft and hugged him. Mycroft looked like no one had ever hugged him in his entire life.

Sherlock stood back and reached his hand out to John, sharing a look between them. Both men looked back at Mycroft and raised an eyebrow at the surprised expression that was still on his face.

Sherlock had whispered. "Thank you, Dad." Then John and Sherlock stepped forward, with Sherlock standing just a little back from John, and bowed ever so slightly to the room full of people who once again lifted their glasses to the engaged couple. "Where's Mary?" Sherlock suddenly asked John.

All three men looked around but they couldn’t spot her. John sniffed the air, seeking the scent of his other child but he couldn’t find it, there were too many people milling about. Concern spiked and John’s eyes scanned the crowds, trying to find her bright blond hair. He couldn’t see and now he was feeling anxious.

Then Molly came rushing forward. "Dr Watson, Mary...she's sick."

They wasted no time following Molly to a small side room where Mary was sitting, looking deathly pale, her hands trembling. She looked scared, “John. Something’s wrong.”

Mycroft pulled out his mobile to call for medical help while John knelt next to Mary and began to ask her a series of questions, trying to find out exactly what was distressing her, “I don’t know, I feel wrong. Something is wrong!” was all she would say, now beginning to show signs of true panic.

John consulted quietly with the ambulance medic. "I think she's been poisoned." The Medic didn't waste time with who or why, he was there to attend Mary and nothing else. Sherlock who was standing back from them with Mycroft asked, "Sherrinford?" 

"Most likely," Mycroft replied. "Your enemies would target you directly."

“True. I didn’t think he’d have it in him to attempt to destroy his own nephew or niece though, he had to have known about Mary.” Sherlock was trying to sound unaffected but he wasn’t. He smelled worried, just like John was. Mary was now in the hands of the professionals Mycroft kept on hand, they were loading her into the ambulance and preparing to take her away. Lestrade rushed up and was allowed to travel with Mary as her official guardian. He was as distressed as anyone else, “We need to speak to him as soon as possible. We should follow them to the hospital.”

They were a bit conspicuous in their finery as they sat in the emergency waiting room for news of Mary. John was allowed in with her only because he was her Alpha officially. Not even Lestrade was allowed in with her. "Maybe she just ate too much or something?" Lestrade said. "She was terribly hungry. I had just about everything she ate only just a taste. She didn't drink any alcohol."

Sherlock paced back and forth, “There were a dozen different ways to introduce a toxin into her if that’s what someone wanted. Her drink could easily been spiked after the fact. We should have monitored her with greater care! There were so many people there, she should have been safe.” Sherlock was struggling to remain calm, nearly at the point where he was more than willing to storm over and demand that someone, anyone, tell him what was going on and if his child was still with them!

As if sensing what Sherlock was about to do Mycroft grabbed his arm. "Don't," he said quietly. "Let the doctors do their job." 

"You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?" Sherlock snapped at him. "Sherlock, you are letting your emotions rule your head. Of course I had nothing to do with this. After all my efforts, why would I?" 

Sherlock shook his head. "It's the pregnancy. It's making me soppy," he said in disgust.

Mycroft was silent for a long moment, “I was the same way when we were expecting you. I worried, constantly. I still do.”

"I have always wondered, Daddy is an Omega. Mummy is an Alpha. This evening, you introduced Mommy as your Sire and Daddy as your bearer. How can that be?" Sherlock asked.

"Dear God! Didn't they teach you anything about sex, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked. 

"About Omegas, yes," Sherlock replied.

“Well then you should know very well how conception works, for goodness sake Sherlock, you didn’t delete it did you?” Mycroft sounded very cross.

"I don't think you understand, Mycroft. They don't teach us about Alphas. We are just taught to do whatever the Alpha tells us to, at least when I went to school.” Sherlock clearly has never seen an Alpha woman's penis. Lestrade came to the rescue.

“Female Alphas are physically different from other women, they have….well they have a penis, alright, inside like. It only comes out to play during heat. The rest of the time is just normal you-know-what.” Lestrade was a bit embarrassed but Sherlock just looked curious, “Look, four times a year a female Alpha is able to impregnate her Omega, that’s all you really need to know right now.”

"Oh..." Sherlock said, a little shocked. 

"Did Irene never?" Mycroft asked. Sherlock shook his head. Mycroft sighed. His hatred of Irene only grew with this knowledge.

"Makes you feel a little...emasculated. Doesn't it?" Lestrade commented. Sherlock nodded.

“She wasn’t interested in men. Irene liked the idea of being the one in charge but she only stayed with me because of the social contacts my family name provided. According to John my relationship with her was very unhealthy. He destroyed everything she left behind.” Sherlock was still pacing around, and beginning to look edgy. He needed to see John now, and that need was beginning to grow stronger.

Mycroft stopped a passing nurse and asked, demanded, that she ask John to come out to attend his distressed Omega. "Mr. Lestrade, I wonder if you would go to the canteen and get us all some tea, if it is drinkable from a place like this? Some other beverage if not."

Lestrade nodded and left, his face serious and filled with worry. He was very fond of Mary, and everyone cared about the baby. Sherlock was beginning to pluck at his clothes. His anxiety was growing, he needed John. Sherlock’s fingers began to rub over his abdomen, and he alternated between staring at the doors that remained stubbornly shut, no news of any kind to be offered. “I need John.” he stated flatly.

"I have sent for him," Mycroft said. He was worried for Sherlock. This was not good for him or the baby he carried. Sherlock fumbled around through his pockets but only came up with an empty sweet wrapper. Mycroft produced a glucose drop from his pocket and handed it to Sherlock. "You knew," Mycroft said. 

"Yes. I have for some time," Sherlock replied. 

"And you chose tonight to reveal it. Why?"

"Because in finding John for me you have changed my life much for the better. Thank you."

Sherlock’s worry was becoming extreme. His child was in danger, his Alpha was not present, he was pregnant, Sherlock couldn’t get his mind to slow down and focus the way he normally did. His feelings refused to be contained and he wasn’t familiar with controlling himself, “I need John.” he snapped again. John would fix things. John made things right.

"Nurse!" Mycroft called. "Get Dr Watson, NOW!" Mycroft yelled. He didn't dare touch Sherlock as his scent would further upset Sherlock.

The nurse took one look at Sherlock who was staring fixedly at the door and dashed away. “John.” said Sherlock softly, “John?” Sherlock kept calling out for his Alpha and Mycroft noticed the air become sweeter as Sherlock’s body did everything it could to entice his Alpha to return to him. The Omega’s distress had triggered a release of pheromones designed specifically for John. “John.” breathed Sherlock and stilled, eyes open, watching.

John was pulled between his need to be with his unborn child and his need to be with his Omega, but Sherlock won. He would every time. John knew that there was nothing he could do to help Mary as she was being treated for poisoning. But he and only he could help Sherlock.

John nearly skidded to a halt as he dashed through the corridors to get to Sherlock, his scent ripe on the air. Sherlock was in distress, worry and fear coloring the scent-markers that made John move faster. As soon as he could, John pulled Sherlock into his arms, rubbing his cheek along Sherlock’s neck, and murmuring soothingly to the taller man, “We’re fine love, I’m here. I’m here Sherlock. I’ll always come for you. Always.” with every word John’s entire body exuded love and security, showing his mate that he was cared for, and looked after. Sherlock calmed and slowly returned the embrace as his body relaxed and settled.

"Take him home, John. There is nothing you can do here. I'll call as soon as there is word," Mycroft said.

John left without a word. Mary was in a room full of specialists who hadn’t let John remain longer than it took to tell him she was stable. He’d been pacing in the hallway, ready to leap into action but there hadn’t been anything he could do. Sherlock was in a state, he needed John’s attention and the Alpha gave it willingly. During the ride home Sherlock curled into John’s shoulder, feeling clingy and out of sorts, “You smell like her. I can smell the baby too.” He wasn’t upset. Sherlock was just stating the facts.

"She is in the best care, love. Mycroft will see to that," John told him. Sherlock's pocket rang suddenly. It was the pink phone.


	29. A Day of Significance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has skipped and jumped forward bringing us directly to a very special day.

Everything was perfect. It was just as John and Sherlock had wanted it. The colour scheme did not clash with John's dress uniform but there was not enough red to look garish. Sherlock waited in a room on the side of the church for John to arrive, and waited and waited. "Mycroft, go find John," Sherlock eventually demanded.

After Mycroft left Sherlock paced back and forth, the white of his suit enhancing the ivory of his skin, the rosebud on his lapel adding a splash of color that complimented his brilliant eyes and the dark sheen of his curls. He looked at the clock. The wedding was happening soon and John still wasn’t here.

Sherlock wasn’t trying to work himself up, he was positive it was just wedding nerves. The baby was a bit unsettled but then, he/she usually was this time of day. Sherlock paced again, waiting for the word that John had made it to his dressing room. No one knocked to let him know anything and Sherlock was seriously considering leaving to find John himself.

Ten minutes after the wedding was supposed to start, Mycroft entered the room Sherlock was waiting in and held out a military medal. "That's John's," Sherlock said. 

"It was found in the carpark," Mycroft said.

Sherlock clutched at small round bump of his baby belly but reached out for the medal, “Mycroft. Someone has taken John.”

“I already have people reviewing the security footage from the surrounding area. There have been several arrival and departures of course.” 

Sherlock was barely listening to Mycroft tell him what he was doing. For a minute Sherlock was overcome with an instinctive feeling of distress. He was separated from his Alpha and the Omega in him wanted to flee to the shelter of his father but Sherlock would not dishonor his John in such a way. “Show me everything. Now. I need to find John.”

They were about to leave the room when Sherlock's phone received a text. He pulled it out quickly hoping it was from John. Something had just delayed him and that wasn't John's medal at all he told himself but Sherlock knew that it was. He read the message. "Where it all began." Sherlock knew what that meant. "I will be back as soon as I can," he told Mycroft. 

"Sherlock you can't leave. Where are you going?" Mycroft told him.

“To get John.” was all Sherlock said. He left without a backward glance, not listening when Mycroft asked him to explain. Sherlock could only think about getting to John. A taxi dropped off a tardy guest who seemed surprised when the bride pushed his way into the cab and zoomed off.

Sherlock knew the risk. But he couldn't let John suffer for him. No one would question if he was the meek Omega who hid from danger and protected his unborn child, but Sherlock would never be able to live with himself if John was killed and he could save him. He entered the pool building without hesitation. He took in his surroundings quickly. He was dealing with a bomber, he reminded himself.

Chlorine hung heavy in the air and the tiles made the air seem colder than it was. Sherlock’s eyes darted around, seeking information. There were too many hiding spots, any number of places could conceal enemies. Still, the scent of John was in the air and Sherlock knew his Alpha was close. Keeping his face impassive, Sherlock stepped closer to a bank of lockers.

John stepped out into view. He was wearing a heavy parker over the top of his dress uniform. He was sweating. "I bet you didn't see this coming," John said. His eyes blinked irregularly at Sherlock.

Sherlock was stunned. A shock of betrayal washed through him and he froze on the spot, his eyes fixed to John’s. He didn’t understand. Sherlock’s entire world revolved around his dependence on John, how could this be? Sherlock smelled the air again. Something strange was happening. “John, what the hell?”

John continued blinking strangely at Sherlock. Sherlock gave an almost imperceptible nod to John who glanced down at Sherlock's baby bump. It was clear to anyone who knew Sherlock or knew what they were looking for but not completely obvious yet. A stranger might think John was over-feeding his Omega.

John was speaking strangely, he was saying odd things. Someone was feeding John words! Sherlock looked intently at his Alpha, this wasn’t John speaking. His eyes! Code. John was using code. Sherlock realized John was using his eyes to give Sherlock a message. John kept talking, “Stop it.” said Sherlock faintly. Casting his mind back Sherlock began to feverishly translate but before he could get anywhere someone arrived. 

"Do you have any concept of how much you have inconvenienced me?" a voice asked from the shadows.

Sherlock frowned faintly. The voice had a familiar tone to it but he wasn’t positive. He smelled the air but the chlorine was too strong, Sherlock couldn’t make out more than John. “In what way have I inconvenienced you? Do I know you?”

"I was having fun with Mary. She honestly thought I was in love with her. But she is no good to me now, thanks to your father. I thought you might be one of those Omegas, the 1 in a million who can father children," the voice said from the shadows. "This is just a warning, Sherlock. If by some remote chance you have a child, it had better be an Omega. An Alpha would meet with an unfortunate accident." Sherlock realized that he couldn't smell the baby. The chlorine.

"What's it to you?" 

"EVERYTHING!"

Sherlock suddenly realized the person speaking to him knew the secret that less than a handful knew. Mycroft was Sherlock’s father, how could he know? Hoping to tease more information from the stranger Sherlock asked, “Mary is very ill, she hasn’t recovered fully. Why would hurting her be advantageous to you? Why would it matter what our child was? So what if I could impregnate a woman, do you suppose I’d want to?”

“It’s not a matter of want Sherlock, it’s a matter of can. Would you if you could? Miss Morstan unfortunately survived as did that parasite in her womb.” Sherlock felt cold. This person had tried to kill his child, wanted to kill his children. It took all his self-control not to cover his belly protectively. His tailors were very clever but a move that obvious would give everything away. 

“Who are you?” 

“I suppose you can call me Uncle Sherry.” said the voice laconically, “Your little friend knows me better as Jim.”

Sherlock was stunned. Sherrinford was Moriarty? He was dating Molly? How! Why would he try to kill Mary and the child? “Why are you doing this?”

“Let’s play a little game ‘Lockie, the Game of Parts. I’m going to guess which bit of you that you just can’t live without and you’re going to see if you survive. I’m going to start with…..your heart.” Sherrinford stepped forward. He was a small man, dark-haired and heavily styled to look younger than he was. John stopped blinking just as Sherlock finished translating his message. Bomb.

John opened the heavy coat that swaddled him. A black vest covered his military uniform with garishly wrapped explosives so it looked like John was holding an armful of gifts. Sherlock was screaming inside but he forced his exterior to stay calm, “What are the rules?”

“Rules are whatever I make them. I’m going to walk away. In exactly thirty seconds your gift is going to go off. That’s just enough time for you to get a safe distance away if you run as fast as you can. Nice seeing you ‘Lockie. I’d ask you to say hi to my little brother for me but I understand you won’t be able to.” Sherrinford turned on a designer heel and strolled away laughing.

A door clanged shut behind him and a red light began to flash on John’s vest, “JOHN!” Sherlock raced right to him, sliding on his knees at the last second to undo the vest with as much speed as he could manage, “I’ve got the right side off, tug that blue strap, get it off. INTO THE POOL SHERLOCK!” John practically lifted Sherlock up and rushed them both to the pool.

Sherlock managed to suck in one last lungful of air just as the water hit his back. John’s arms were around his waist, his shoulder digging into the bottom of his ribs as he propelled them backward. The shock of the cold nearly made Sherlock exhale as the whump of pressure and flames turned the pool-room into a bowl of flames and steam. Something heavy slammed into them both and Sherlock’s head cracked against the bottom of the pool.

After that he wasn’t sure what happened. He recalled flailing around, tugging at John’s limp sodden body. His Alpha was bleeding. There were movements at the edge of the pool but Sherlock couldn’t hear anything. The blast had rendered him nearly deaf and his ears rang. Mycroft! He could see Mycroft! People were pulling John out and Sherlock lost consciousness at last, slipping under the water without struggle.

The room's smells told Sherlock most of what he needed to know before he even opened his eyes. His ears told him the rest. He was in a hospital room. John was close. He was hooked up to monitors but nothing more serious. He could feel an IV needle in his arm, done by an experienced nurse, no bruising. He hadn't lost the baby. His entire body ached and his head more so than anything. He was slightly nauseous. John was alive and awake and talking to Mycroft. Daddy was sitting by Sherlock's bed, his hand resting on Sherlock's.

“John.” he whispered. His head hurt so much but seeing his Alpha’s worried blue eyes made him feel so much better, “Are you alright John? Are you hurt? How is the baby? Is the baby alright?”

It was Mycroft who came over to him, though John spoke. "I'm fine," John said. Sherlock recognized a morphine-filled voice immediately. 

"The baby is alright, Sherlock. Just rest. John can't get out of bed to come to you yet and you shouldn't try either. It hurt for Sherlock to turn his head towards John's voice but he did it anyway. John was literally black and blue, but his monitors told Sherlock that he really was doing fine.

“I love you John!” Sherlock said. He needed physical comfort but the words would do as well. He could smell how hurt John was and he wanted to care for his mate but he hurt so much too. His baby needed him to be still so for John’s precious child, Sherlock lay unmoving. He rolled his head back to Mycroft, “Sherrinford.”

“I love you, Sherlock and I love William John Scott Watson-Holmes," John added. 

"A boy," Sherlock smiled. He lay back and smiled happily to himself. A son! He was giving John a son! John had given him a son! Joy filled him and for the first time Sherlock really felt the blessing he had been awarded, one he’d never thought to enjoy. He was bringing life to the world and his son was already loved, cherished. “Little William.”

"If you call him Billy, I swear I will murder you both and take guardianship of William," Mycroft said. Sherlock squeezed Daddy's hand.

"The reception was lovely, Lockie. And thank you for at least trying to have a church wedding for me."

The name made Sherlock tense and he looked at Mycroft, “It was him, Sherrinford. He’s Moriarty. He tried to kill Mary! Is Mary safe? The baby! Is the baby safe?” Sherlock couldn’t help the worry that filled him and clutched at his belly once again. He clutched at Seiger’s hand, “Daddy! Why would he do this?” Sherlock barely knew Sherrinford, hadn’t seen him since he was little more than a toddler.

"Dear boy, Alphas can be very ruthless with Omegas when it comes to children. We are disposable. All that matters are the Alpha children we can have," Sieger replied. 

"It's my fault, at least according to Ford. He is the eldest. His first Alpha child will inherit the estates. He would have control until that child came of age. But we caught the mumps as teenagers. We are both infertile. Your first born Alpha, whether William or Mary's child will inherit. Ford planned on marrying Mary. She believes that she is the mother. So Ford would have gotten control of the estates until her child was of age. Mary is useless to him because it isn't her child," Mycroft explained.

“How did he find out? Someone is working with him! We have been betrayed!” Sherlock was nearly hissing. His Alpha was hurt. His baby was nearly murdered in the womb when Sherrinford tried to poison Mary. They had been toyed with for weeks now, the pink phone leading them on one chase after another, always at the behest of the fabricated voices. John and Sherlock had managed to figure out nearly all the puzzles in time, but not always. Deaths had occurred and it seemed that Sherrinford had a very particular body-count in view.

"Jim Moriarty, working in the IT department at Bart's, is dating Molly Hooper. My brother has many talents and had a lifetime, your lifetime to prepare for this. I have employed more security. This is Hamish Scott, a distant cousin of ours. I believe you have met. He lives next door to you," Mycroft introduced the man sitting in a chair at the door. 

"Doctor Hamish Scott?" John asked with sudden realization. "I replaced you, in the army...you..." 

"I got shot, in the leg, invalided home," Hamish told him.

“Well your post must have been jinxed. I got shot in the shoulder. Sherlock still accepted me as his Alpha though, hideous wound and all.” John looked sharply at the man, “What are you doing here?”

"I'm part of Sherlock's new security team. Mr. Holmes has filled me in on all the details. Family squabbles are often the most violent. Let me guess that you didn't know that William and I run a detective/security agency next door. You steal most of our customers," Hamish said.

“It’s always something.” muttered Sherlock. John smiled softly from his bed, looking drowsy once again. Sherlock hoped he fell asleep. He would heal better but John stubbornly kept his eyes open and his ears sharp. “Where are Mary and Lestrade? What about Mrs. Hudson? Mummy?”

"Everyone is fine," Mycroft told him. "They are all enjoying the weekend at the castle. I've flown in more security. As soon as the hospital gives the word I will have you both flown home to London."


	30. House Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John gave it their best shot but the wedding simply did not go as planned. Alas!

It was the first night since the ill-fated wedding that Sherlock didn't want sex. He complained of a headache and pains in his legs and feeling rotten.

John was very concerned. Sherlock was exhibiting some worrying signs. Calling Mrs. Hudson over John got her to arrange for a home visit by Mike Stamford. It would be easier for Sherlock if he were at home and comfortable.

221B started filling up with people. For some reason even Lestrade was there. He was actually patting Mycroft's shoulder, telling him that everything would be alright. Mike looked worried as soon as he took Sherlock's blood pressure.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” Mike began to check Sherlock everywhere, palpating his swollen belly knowledgeably. The past few months had seen Sherlock grow and swell and while Mike had Sherlock’s shirt up everyone managed to see the ripple that made its way across the surface. Sherlock groaned deeply. “Has that happened before this?”

"It's been going on for 21 minutes and 54 seconds," Sherlock informed him. "John, get Jeremy. I want Jeremy. NOW!"

Mike looked concerned but Lestrade at least was able to move, rushing off to find the other Omega of whom Sherlock had grown so fond. John looked at Mike, “What’s going on?” He knew, he just knew but he held his breath and hoped he was wrong.

"It's his porphyria. It's causing him to go into early labor." Mike turned to one of the medics. "Get the equipment from the ambulance. John, set up and glucose IV. Mr Holmes, is the birthing chair here?"

Mycroft looked startled but nodded, “Yes, I had it brought in as soon as the renovations were done. We just need to bring it into the room.” 

“No! We’re not married I refuse to give birth until we are properly married!” Sherlock crossed his legs as if that would stop anything.

"Sherlock, there isn't time," Mycroft said with the annoyance he reserved just for when Sherlock was at his most unreasonable. 

Jeremy arrived just then and went straight to Sherlock. He felt his belly and put his ear down to it. He smiled at Sherlock. "Not long now. Trousers off. Let's get you into the birthing chair." 

Sherlock seemed to calm right down but he still refused to budge. "I am not letting this baby be born until we are married. I'm not letting Mycroft have a single legal point towards taking this baby from John," Sherlock said. 

"I have no intention of taking this baby from John," Mycroft said. 

"No wedding, no baby. John get the papers." 

"We don't have time to get a celebrant," John said. 

"We don't have to dear," Mrs. Hudson said from the doorway. "I can do it."

“This is why she’s still my favorite.” panted Sherlock, “I want to get into my suit. John go get dressed now.” there was absolutely no way Sherlock was going to fit into any part of his wedding outfit. 

“Love we don’t have time to dress, you have to get UN-dressed and right now! Let me help you love, everyone, turn away for a minute, for heaven’s sake!” Backs were presented and a petulant Sherlock was relieved of everything he was wearing and put into a soft absorbent robe that Jeremy provided.

“I made this for you. You look lovely, see? It’s loose but not itchy. You won’t want anything tight on you.” Sherlock looked elegantly uncomfortable now, the long flowing lines of his birthing robe complimenting his gravid body.

Sherlock kissed John, "The rings." But before John could get their rings, Sherlock grabbed the front of his jumper and yelled in pain. 

"We'll get him onto the birthing chair, go get the rings," Mrs. Hudson said. As soon as John got back she began, ignoring the commotion going on around her. "Sherlock, do you understand the legal ramifications of marrying John?" 

"Mrs. Hudson! Get on with it," Sherlock growled. 

"I have to ask to make it legal, Sherlock," she replied. 

"Yes, yes, I under *scream* stand." 

"John, do you understand the legal ramifications of marrying Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson asked. 

"Yes," John said, distracted by Jeremy who was massaging Sherlock's stomach. He reached out and took over the massaging.

John helped Sherlock onto the chair where his mate groaned with relief as it supported him perfectly, keeping his thighs properly positioned for delivery. Greg and Mycroft stood there clutching their hands together as Mrs. Hudson patiently went through the ceremony, waiting in between Sherlock’s distressed wails to get them to repeat their vows. Sherlock was gripping John’s hand so hard that finger-tip bruises began to appear and the Omega was panting deeply and regularly from his perch on the chair.

The chair was the sort of piece that the public only saw in museums. It was ornately carved hardwood that was highly polished and in perfect condition. Mike pulled out the little foldaway stool for the midwife to sit on, in this case himself. "If the baby gets too stressed we will have to move him to Bart's for a C-section." 

"No! This baby is being born here," Sherlock insisted. 

"No, he's doing alright. Have the humidicrib ready. He's going to be a small one," Jeremy told them. The Beta medic looked to Mike who nodded.

“Stop looking for confirmation! Jeremy knows what he’s talking about!” shouted Sherlock who was now glaring around at everyone. “JOHN! Make them stop talking! Make them stop breathing! I need that air! It’s mine!” Sherlock groaned once again and gripped the arms of the chair tight once again.

"Mrs. Hudson, the music." Mrs. Hudson found the tape of Sherlock's violin music and put it on. Sherlock sighed and relaxed as much as one could while giving birth. 

"Why don't you all sit down?" Mike said. "The first always takes a long time. Greg, would you make tea please. Mrs. Hudson, please continue."

Mrs. Hudson took both their hands in hers and began the final part of their wedding ceremony. Sherlock seemed relatively calm and smiled as much as he could as he promised himself to John and accepted the ring on his finger. They had to wait for a contraction to finish before Mrs. Hudson could continue.

Just as John lent in to kiss Sherlock, he let out quite a scream and nearly clawed the arms off the chair. "One more, you're doing fine," Jeremy said from somewhere below him. "Yell as much as you want." Sherlock looked up at John and smiled. 

"Cameras!" Mycroft said suddenly. "We need photos." Everyone was suddenly flashing camera phones.

The first few images of their marriage and first born included John’s angry face as he told them to shove off and to stop taking pictures of Sherlock’s bits, and Sherlock’s agonized face as Mrs. Hudson shouted that they were now legally married. The baby’s head began to crown.

Lestrade appeared with the tea tray just as Jeremy put William John Scott Watson-Holmes into Sherlock's arms and cameras once again were shoved in their faces. Sherlock looked down at the tiny squirming bundle. He looked over at Mike worriedly. "I thought he would be bigger," Sherlock said. 

"He should be. Now let me take him and make sure everything is alright?" Mike said. It was John who took the baby from Sherlock's arms and handed him to Mike.

Mike quickly weighed and measured the small boy, neatly clipping his umbilical cord after John cut it, and delicately cleaning the baby’s eyes and putting in drops to prevent infection. Mike went through the Apgar evaluation with little William, “He seems fine. A bit small yes, but not dangerously so considering he arrived early.” Mike checked the baby’s lungs and reflexes once more, “We’ll keep an eye on him for the next short while but let’s get him nappied and nursing.”

Jeremy fussed over Sherlock who just wanted his baby back in his arms. It was just after they had been cleaned up and was holding William for photos that Sherlock started convulsing. Jeremy rushed the baby out of his arms while Mike went straight to the Omgea.

“Oh god! SHERLOCK!” John was filled with terror as he watched helplessly. Mike seemed to know what was needed and John cursed himself for not being better prepared! He was useless!

Mike's care seemed to stop the convulsions at least temporarily, but Sherlock was unconscious. They transferred him to a stretcher and into the ambulance. "Are you coming with us?" the medic asked John.

“Of fucking course I am! That’s my husband! We just had a baby!” Jeremy had William already swaddled up and placed him in John’s arms. The baby could nurse at the hospital and if Sherlock couldn’t give suck then it was the best place to get proper nourishment for the child.

Mike arrived at the hospital at the same time as the ambulance and was able to give all the necessary details for Sherlock's treatment. A short time later as John sat at Sherlock's bedside, Mycroft arrived with Jeremy who had a bag of things for William and handed John a bottle.

“Colostrum from a donor, William needs it. There will be more breast-milk being delivered shortly. With any luck William will have Sherlock by then.” Mycroft looked worried.

"No," Mike said as he entered. "Sherlock is dry."

“It’s too early,” said Sherlock weakly, “I wasn’t ready yet.” John could smell the disappointment on his mate who had wanted to nurse their child himself, to prove that he could be the best mother possible.

“He’s alive and healthy love, we couldn’t ask for more than that without being greedy.” soothed John who showered Sherlock with all the love in his heart, trying to ease his mate’s distress by letting Sherlock know that John wasn’t upset or disappointed, but rather, that the Alpha was proud but worried.

"Is he...is he an..." Sherlock couldn't quite get it out. 

"He is a rare one, Sherlock," Mycroft replied. "He's an AlphaOmega."

Sherlock slumped back now, a weak smile on his face, “The heir is born.” he whispered and closed his eyes, still smiling.

"What's an AlphaOmega?" Jeremy asked. 

"He is an hermaphrodite, and Omega but he has Alpha glands as well. He will be able to both father and mother children. When he reaches puberty, he will have the choice of staying as he is or becoming one or the other," John explained. 

"Either way, as an Alpha at birth, he inherits," Mycroft told them. "Congratulations, John. You are now the Alpha Elder of the Holmes family.”

“I always knew my gray hair would come in handy,” joked John weakly. He was more concerned about Sherlock’s wellness than he was of assuming the vast wealth and influence of the Holmes family. “Keep things as they are for now unless something desperately needs changing, just until Sherlock is better and then we can do things properly.”

Sherlock squeezed John’s hand, “You have to marry Mary now. Not today, a different day. Before she gives birth too. Next week, after I’m better.”

"Well, Mary and I have been talking about that and I have agreed to give her a proper wedding same church, same hotel. But you two can have the honeymoon you didn't get," Mycroft said. "Not for at least three weeks, better a month," Mike added.

“I didn’t get a proper wedding, she doesn’t get a proper wedding.” hissed Sherlock angrily, glaring at Mycroft. “John and I will be taking our honeymoon as a matter of course, but he WILL wed her next week SIMPLY and that’s that.”

“That is not that. We have a contract Sherlock. She gets a proper wedding and THAT is that. We’ll arrange it for a month from now, just before she’s due. Mary is completely healthy with no complications. She should carry full term and if she does not, THEN you can have a simple wedding.”

"This should have all been taken care of months ago!" Sherlock protested. 

"Sherlock, John was still recovering from the injuries he sustained in the bomb blast. With you running all over the country chasing Sherrinford it was not a good idea to add more stress and excitement to your lives," Mycroft replied. "All we need is the paperwork, which we now have for you and will soon have for Mary. It is just icing on the cake, to make sure that Sherrinford can't object to either of your children."

John leaned down and whispered in Sherlock’s ear, “Please love, this is already going to be hard for me, you know I don’t really want to do this but the baby Sherlock, our baby! She’s waiting for us and we have to protect her every way we can.”

"I have arranged for a nurse for you for the next month. Please try to be civil to him. His name is Rory Williams. And would you like Jeremy as a nanny?" Mycroft asked. Jeremy's eyes lit up.

Sherlock finally smiled and reached a hand out to the nearly quivering Omega, “That would be entirely acceptable if John is agreeable.”

John was so relieved that Sherlock was calming down he nodded instantly, “Jeremy will be fantastic as our nanny, if he’d like to be.”

"Yes, oh yes, please. I would like that. I always wanted more children but after that infection..." Jeremy said. 

"We perfectly understand, Jeremy, and I would be very pleased to have you as nanny," Sherlock told him.

Poor Jeremy had lost his last Alpha to an infection that had been passed to Jeremy, rendering him infertile. He’d been devastated, not understanding at first, and then, taking a long time to accept. Sherlock had helped, always treating the shy older man gently, coaching him out of his submissive behaviors slowly. Now he was nearly bouncing around the room with joy. He’d have not just one, but two babies to raise now and no worries for his future for the rest of his life. The Holmes family would always care for him unless he wished to be bonded and wed on his own.


	31. Contracts and Obligations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little William has made it into the world safely and there's just one more Holmes to go before they have the complete set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - this chapter is extremely intense. Brace yourself. There is a minor character death, I won't say who.

Jeremy sat in the front row holding little William who was being quiet for a change. He seemed fascinated with the colours that the stained glass window threw around the church. They had changed plans and settled for a small church in London because they didn't want Mary to be traveling. She was due in just a week and though she was not pleased at having to go down the aisle looking like a blimp, Mycroft had declared that she would even if he had to push her in a wheelchair. A much smaller reception had been planned, after all she was going to be Watson not a Holmes. She still had no idea that the baby wasn't hers. Mycroft planned to tell her after Mary Grace Watson-Holmes was born. John stood nervously beside Sherlock. "There is still time to change my mind," John said. 

"Don't be silly, John. This will seal any legal loopholes, as we have discussed on numerous occasions. Are you wearing the pants I bought you?" Sherlock asked. He had bought John special 'lucky' underwear to wear for the wedding, which consisted of a pair of bright red briefs with the words 'Property of Sherlock Holmes' printed across his butt.

John glowered at his husband but nodded. “Yes. You watched me put them on this morning.” as if there had been any other choice. Sherlock had made off with ALL of John’s pants and the drawer contained this single pair and Sherlock had sat on a chair by the door until John donned them.

Sherlock fixed John’s tie and straightened his shirt, “This marriage is very important to me John. I want that baby; you are going to do everything possible to make sure today goes better than our first wedding. No kidnapping!” Sherrinford had been unusually quiet. All the crimes that had been presented to Sherlock during his pregnancy seemed to have dried up now that he had birthed but for John the new situation was just that much more stressful. He was waiting. Something was going to happen and he worried over the poor soul who would bear the brunt of the mad-man’s attentions as he tried to trick Sherlock by proxy one more time.

"Yes, but you could have changed them when you went to the gents," Sherlock pointed out. Sherlock had shown how worried he was clearly through actions though not verbally. William was never alone. If he wasn't with Sherlock, he was with Jeremy or Lestrade.

“Where would I have gotten a spare pair of pants from Sherlock?” John was getting his tie fixed for the seventh time, Sherlock undoing it and redoing it almost obsessively.

Lestrade suddenly stuck his head in the door, "Ready? Come on, Mary is getting out of the car." Sherlock finished his tie tying and they walked out together. It was a small church of no historical distinction, nowhere near the place that Sherlock's and John's almost wedding didn't take place. The priest looked nervous. He was sweating. His eyes were darting about. His hands were shaking so he grasp them together so hard that his knuckles went white. Everyone's attention was on Mary who was walking up the aisle on Mycroft's arm. Sherlock was looking at William. He glanced back at the priest. There was a tiny spot of red flashing under his vestments. It stopped flashing just as Mary reached them. "Vatican Cameos!" Sherlock yelled and dived for William. The priest exploded.

Jeremy automatically curled up around the baby, Sherlock shielding his child as well even as he looked desperately around for John. “JOHN!” John was on the floor and there was blood. “JOHN!”

What people don't think about in explosions is the dust, the choking dust that fills the air and covers everything, blinding everyone anywhere near the explosion. It covered them, filling their eyes, their ears, their mouths, turning people into unrecognizable zombies. The beam of the church's roof directly above them creaked and then snapped and seemed to fall in slow motion. "MARY!" Sherlock screamed. He couldn't move away from William.

Sherlock wanted to watch but his eyes jerked away at the last second as the beam crashed right over the spot where John and Mary had been. “JOHN” screamed Sherlock over and over again. He couldn’t see, couldn’t smell, couldn’t tell if the love of his life and his unborn babe were still with him. Jeremy moved, making sure little William was still safely covered under his baby blanket, the older man was crying but silent.

"As soon as you can, get William out. Wash his face. Make sure he is breathing properly," Sherlock told Jeremy, not realizing he was yelling. He froze in utter terror when he heard a gunshot, not concerned for himself but for his family. "Get out now, Jeremy. Go."

Jeremy wasn’t the fool so many people took him for. He held William carefully and watched where he was going, making sure he remained as hidden as possible until he was safely in the stone corridor of the church’s outer hallways where Sherlock lost sight of him. Trying to tell himself he wasn’t scared to death Sherlock took his first cautious steps toward the front of the church where the huge beam obscured everything.

John was lying on the floor, one leg trapped beneath the thick wooden beam. There was so much blood everywhere that Sherlock couldn't tell if any of it was John's. He wasn't moving. Sherlock carefully climbed over the beam. A second shot rang out. Sherlock felt the sting of it grazing his head. He was too hyped up to feel pain. He dived for the floor. Everything went deadly silent but for the distant sound of sirens.

“Sherlock….” John’s voice was weak but steady, “Where’s Mary? Mary? MARY?” John was trying to sit up, the shock of pain from his trapped leg making him stop immediately. Sherlock was staring in horror. Mary was lying beside John, a small hole in her chest but she was still breathing. 

“Mary! Hang on Mary! We’re here, we’re here! Hang on!” Sherlock covered the wound with his hand, willing for the blood to remain inside but it wouldn’t stop seeping from between his fingers.

“Baby…save the baby…..have to….” Mary sounded lost, as if the pain she must be feeling wasn’t there.

Mary's head dropped to one side, staring at John. "I'm sorry," she said with the last breath escaping her lips. Suddenly, a short but rotund figure was beside them. He was grey with dust and ash. He checked Mary's pulse then peeled Sherlock's hand away from the wound. He shook his head, then reached into his trousers and pulled out a pocket knife. He flicked it open. "I'm sorry, John. Don't watch this. Sherlock, take your coat off and give me your shirt."

John began to struggle and Sherlock was so stunned he couldn’t move. He stared at the man who barely hesitated before he bent to his task. Sherlock realized he was saving the baby and without further thought stripped off his coat and shirt.

Mary was soon wrapped in Sherlock's shirt. The three of them were so intent on what they were doing that they didn't notice the water pouring into what was left of the church as it crumbled down around them. Firemen lifted the beam enough for them to pulled John out and one of them literally carried John to safety while another helped Sherlock. Outside Mycroft was standing beside Lestrade who was on a stretcher being loaded into an ambulance. He looked up to see Sherlock. "He saved me," Mycroft said dazed. "Why would he do that?"

Sherlock wasn’t thinking clearly so he just said it, “He loves you.”

The man was standing there and he had the child swaddled in Sherlock’s coat. Mycroft looked down at the bloody bundle and gaped, clearly shocked over more than one thing.

"Mary didn't make it," Mike Stamford said and handed the baby over to the medics. Sherlock looked around at the collection of ambulances and medics attending to the injured. There were three body bags in the back of the coroner's van. 

"He won't stop," Sherlock said. 

"He won't bother us again, Sherlock," Mycroft told him.

“What happened.” demanded John from the stretcher where paramedics were trying to tend him. The Alpha struggled against the restraints, determined to see his mate, his children. “Back off!” he tried to order them away.

"The priest was a bomb," Sherlock said sounding himself again as he slipped into detective mode. "He went off, the church caught fire and started to collapse. I sent Jeremy out with William." 

"Sherrinford went to make sure that Mary and the baby were dead, but Mary shot him. He lived long enough to shoot her, but not long enough to kill the unborn child," Mycroft filled in the details that Sherlock didn't know for sure. "Jeremy has William over there. Grace is with the medics over there," he added pointing them out. There was a loud crash as the last of the church roof fell in, leaving only the old stone work still standing. 

"The Mary Sumner Church. How fitting," Mycroft said. John frowned. 

"Mary Sumner founded the Mother's Union, a charity to support family with children," Sherlock informed him.

“Where is Sherrinford? We have to take care of this!” hissed John. The Alpha was livid, the adrenalin coursing through him making him numb to the pain of his damaged leg.

Sherlock looked at John who urged Sherlock to go to Grace, “That’s my baby.” John heard him say, “Is she alright?”

"You are in shock, John. Sherrinford is dead. Mary shot him," Mycroft told him and then nodded to the medics to take him away. Sherlock went to Grace. "Grace is doing fine and far less traumatized than the rest of us."

John was having trouble processing everything. He was still filled with a desperate need to protect Mary, to save her, to see his daughter, to know that Sherlock was alright, and damn his leg! The agony of it was finally beginning to make itself known. “Mycroft, are we safe?”

Mycroft looked at him with a sober expression. "No."

With sinking heart John let the attendants load him into the ambulance, still straining to see Sherlock and his new baby. Jeremy was standing as close to Lestrade and Mycroft as he could get, William protectively shielded by all three men. “Follow us.” he said as the doors closed.

"We have to go now, Sir," the medic said to Mycroft. Mycroft looked around and saw that everything was well in hand so he climbed into the back of the ambulance that they had just loaded Lestrade. Jeremy was put into the front and William was strapped into the baby capsule. Mycroft felt a great loss weighing heavily on his heart when the ambulance pulled away. He had lost his brother and there was no one who could possibly understand. They had been inseparable for the first 15 years of his life. Something had happened to Ford that summer that they had the mumps one minute they were lying in their beds watching movies together and playing games and the next Mycroft was alone and Sherrinford was in hospital. The next time Mycroft had seen him he was no longer his beloved brother Ford, but Moriarty.

Lestrade seemed to at least understand that Mycroft wasn’t as steady as he seemed and subtly shifted himself so that Mycroft was leaning up against his arm. He said nothing though and Mycroft was grateful for the few minutes he was given to try and contain the grief no one else would share.

John woke minus his pants, however the hospital staff must have been amused because his red pants were freshly washed and hanging on the IV stand for everyone to see and above his bed on the small whiteboard where the patient's name was usually written was 'Mrs. Sherlock Holmes'. He knew immediately that he was in Bart's. A crib was beside the bed where Grace lay happily oblivious to the chaos of her birth. Sherlock was impossibly curled into a chair that was far too small for him to be sleeping in, but he was. Baby Grace was bigger than 3 week old William and her head looked twice as big with a mop of blond curls. She stretched her arms and legs out with what John imagines was a baby sigh. John reached for the chart at the bottom of his bed and immediately felt a stab of pain in his leg. At least his psychiatrist couldn't call it psychosomatic anymore. He lifted the covers. His leg was bandaged around the knee and calf and was in a brace to keep it straight.

John found his voice was a bit raspy, “Why am I Mrs. Holmes?”

A little chuckle came from Sherlock. "Congratulations, Mrs. Holmes. You have a healthy baby girl. They think she will be an Alpha but can't confirm until she reaches puberty."

John looked over at Sherlock who looked exhausted and stressed but also relieved because John was finally awake. “What about you love? Are you alright?” John was so worried about Sherlock. He seemed alright but Sherlock was very good at hiding what he didn’t want known.

Sherlock got to his feet. He was wearing a hospital robe over his trousers. "Some minor cuts and bruises. William is in the nursery under observation for the next 24 hours. Jeremy is in emergency getting debris removed from his back. Mrs. Hudson is also in overnight after they removed a piece of glass from her foot," Sherlock told him.

“Oh god I didn’t even notice Jeremy was hurt!” John was a terrible Alpha! Mary had died right beside him, Mike, a Beta, had save John’s daughter. John’s Omega had suffered a horrific shock and John was unable to do even the smallest thing to comfort him. Both his children were in hospital because John had been completely unable to protect them! “Sherlock, god. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry love!” John felt ashamed of himself. He hadn’t even held his new daughter yet. Once again, Mike had done the honors for him. John was useless.

"For what?" Sherlock asked completely confused by John's reaction. He went around the other side of the bed and picked up Grace carefully so she wouldn't wake and handed her to John. "Our daughter, Grace," Sherlock said. Grace woke up for John and blinked at him. She poked her tongue out and wiggled around.

John felt a huge surge of love. He cuddled the small body to him and took in the sweet scent of his little newborn, instantly John began to feel better. Grace was perfect, small, beautiful, just like Sherlock. John didn’t see anything of himself in her apart from her hair but she smelled like him. She was theirs and John knew it. Her scent imprinted on his mind, just as William’s had and John looked up at his husband with shining eyes, “She’s so beautiful.” he looked down again, “I didn’t protect them very well Sherlock. Not well at all. For that I’ll always feel regret.”

"John, you did your best. Mycroft had security everywhere. No one thought to check the priest," Sherlock said. "As for Mary...what sort of woman hides a gun in her wedding dress?"

“How did I miss so much though? Sherlock you could have died too! Our children, we could have lost them. Will Jeremy be alright? Mrs. Hudson? Mycroft….Mycroft, are you alright? Greg? Is he okay?” John noticed Mycroft looking paler than ever. He was standing by the furthest window and he was staring into nothing.

"Greg is in surgery," Mycroft said quietly. "He saved me. He literally threw himself on me when you called out 'vatican cameos'. Me...not his wife. Why? Why didn't his wife protect her Omega?"

Sherlock looked at his brother, “Lestrade’s Alpha wants to end their marriage. He’s too old for her, she wants a younger, less independent mate. She hasn’t been happy with the amount of time he spends working for our family. I believe she is already in the middle of courting another Omega, one fifteen years younger than Lestrade. I suppose he’ll have to retire to an Omega house now.”

Mycroft sighed and turned to them. "She was one of the dead, Sherlock. He is left with 5 children and no Alpha but he won't be going to an Omega House. His injuries...he was pierced through the lower abdomen by falling debris."

“What do you want to do Mycroft?” asked John curiously.

“I would think it’s obvious.” said Sherlock, “My brother will take Lestrade as his own and allow him to raise the children to adulthood. His injuries will require a great deal of time to repair themselves and I don’t believe that Mycroft is willing to risk leaving him unclaimed for very long. He has rather a fondness for silver-hair, I think.”

"And you think I can go from living alone to having 5 children to care for?" Mycroft asked Sherlock. 

"Of course, you can. You are the perfection of organization. You will move into the flat that Mommy got you, so close to your work. A ready made family with all the trimmings and none of the hassles of pregnancy and babies," Sherlock replied.

Mycroft was now looking out the window again but there was a faint pleased smile on his face and even John could see that Mycroft was already planning everything. John sighed, relieved. His friend would be taken care of and their family was now that much bigger. "Can you imagine the Christmas Dinners?"


	32. Holmes the Elder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg has been a great help all this long while and paid a terrible price for being so. Mycroft is not unaffected.

Greg Lestrade was uncomfortably comfortable in his hospital bed. He wasn’t in a hospital, not anymore. Mycroft Holmes had swept in as soon as Greg was able to be transferred safely and installed him in the guest room next to his own personal bedroom at a magnificent flat that already contained his late-wife’s children.

Greg was grateful, he was. The kids were so sad and they hovered around Greg all the time, trying to be brave but they’d lost their mother and were no longer living in a home they recognized. Mycroft had somehow won their affections though, the dignified civil servant was always solicitously courteous to all of them, encouraging them to be unafraid to explore their new home, and seeing to the reasonable resolution of various small problems. The search for Timothy’s missing sock monkey was undertaken with great seriousness, Mycroft nodding in understanding when the small boy wept for his temporary loss and accepted the slightly damp hug he was offered when the beloved toy was discovered stuck between the cushions of the den sofa.

Their grandparents had been brought in for the small funeral afterward and begged Greg for a chance to keep the children for the summer. Reluctantly he agreed, not very willing to part with them or they him, but their grandparents had lost someone too so it was agreed. A month after the incident everyone was packed up for a summer away. Mycroft arranged everything, spoiling the older ones with their own mobiles despite Greg’s half-hearted protests. “They’ll need to stay in touch Gregory, this way they can call you whenever they like.”

Mycroft had been amazing and Greg was a little unsure about what it all meant. He knew how he felt about the younger man, but surely Mycroft could do better than a retired DI with gray hair, five kids, and a rather large scar on his belly.

The children had gone, picked up by their grandparents. Mycroft's housekeeper put a tea tray down on the coffee table in front of Greg and Mycroft joined him, sitting in the armchair across from him. "The children seem to be settling in nicely," Mycroft said as he pulled a small stuffed toy out from behind him and tossed it over his shoulder. "Your doctor tells me that you are recovering well."

Greg was definitely better off than he would have been if he’d been in regular care like anyone else but Mycroft ensured that the DI was cared for by the best available medical help and his progress had been astounding, “The doctors tell me I’m healing a bit faster than they expected.” Greg thought for a long minute, “Why are you helping us like this Mycroft? You don’t owe me anything for the thing at the church.” They almost never spoke of that day. Too many tragedies had happened all at once and one miracle.

"Might we speak in confidence?" Mycroft said a little nervously.

Greg looked around. The house was empty except for the two of them, “Unless you’re recording us somehow I’m thinking this is as confidential as it gets.”

"Should you reveal this to anyone, I shall deny it, especially to Sherlock," Mycroft told him.

Greg grew concerned and immediately put his hand on Mycroft’s, not even aware that practically no one ever laid hands on the taller man. Greg’s fingers gripped Mycroft’s warmly, “You can trust me with anything, I hope you know that.”

"I know as a former Detective Inspector that you are quite capable of being discreet, of keeping secrets, and weighing the value of information," Mycroft began. "So I have decided to tell you. Gregory, I am in love with you."

Greg’s smile was huge and genuine and his fingers gripped Mycroft’s tighter than ever, “Really? I mean, I know you’re not lying or anything but really? Me? How? Why? I’m nobody…my last Alpha didn’t even want me.”

"I am not interested in your value as an Omega, which is minimal," Mycroft replied. Greg was no longer able to have children thanks to the church collapse and they had removed his primary pheromone gland while operating so he would no longer go into heat. He had little to no social standing, so, as an Omega, Greg was on the scrap-heap.

Greg couldn’t stop smiling even though he was filled with disbelief, “Mycroft, you could have anyone, anyone at all. You’re handsome, wealthy, charming….you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met. Why me? What could you want with me?”

Mycroft stared down at Greg's hand on his. He turned his hand so that their fingers entwined. "I don't love anyone else. But there are things about me that you should know before you consider me as your Alpha," he continued quickly as if afraid of emotions.

Greg steadied himself, enjoying the long cool press of Mycroft’s soft fingers. “Tell me the worst about yourself then Mycroft Holmes.” the request was a dare, letting Mycroft know that whatever secrets he might be afraid of revealing, Greg wasn’t the sort to be afraid to hear them.

"Sherlock isn't my brother. He is my son. The bomber, Moriarty who blew up the church, he was my brother Sherrinford. All these bombs, this chaos, all those deaths had been Ford trying to gain control of the family estates. He is...was the eldest and the estates would have been his to control at the birth of his first Alpha child, except both he and I are infertile. Some of this I know you already know. But what you don't know is that Ford had a lover, an Alpha. His name is Sebastian Moran, a former marksman in Special Forces. And he has sworn revenge. The Holmes family estates are now in the hands of John Watson until William's 21st birthday. He could cut me off if he so wished. But I do have a fair income of my own and some investments."

Greg swallowed hard. Someone was gunning for the Holmes men? Greg had suspected something about the relationship between Mycroft and Sherlock, Mycroft didn’t behave as a brother toward Sherlock, not all the time. The news was less of a surprise than it might have been. Greg was really more worried about this Moran character, “What can I do to help?”

"Forgive me," Mycroft said. "I have been incredibly selfish. I moved you and your children in here and endangered all of you. My only excuse is that if Moran suspected that I cared for you, you would have been in danger anyway and I couldn't leave you unprotected and having to care for your children alone," Mycroft told him. He gripped his hand a little tighter.

“So I ask again Mycroft,” Greg’s eyes were gentle and encouraging, “What can I do to help?” Greg willed his fingers to stillness, wanting to sweep comfortingly over Mycroft’s but that’s not what the Alpha needed right then. Greg waited.

Mycroft lifted Greg's hand to his cheek. "You can help me. If you want. Agree to be my husband."

Greg had never felt such a wild thrill before, almost like an electric current had begun to rush through him, keeping his entire body taut and on the very edge. Mycroft Holmes had just asked him to marry! “Nothing would make me happier.” he said without hesitation though his voice was gruff, “I agree.”

Mycroft was on the couch next to Greg so fast that Greg had barely taken a breath. Mycroft drew him into his arms and held him as their lips met. Mycroft was so gentle yet passionate. When he broke the kiss they lent their foreheads together. "I know that you haven't fully recovered from your surgery yet. I am quite prepared to wait," he said quietly.

Greg was aware not every Alpha would be so considerate. Greg was well enough to allow it, but it wouldn’t be enjoyable, “Thank you.” he said sincerely and kissed Mycroft again, knowing his Alpha would be content with what he was able to currently offer, “I hope you never regret asking me. I’m a very happy man right now. I really hope we don’t have to wait too long.”

Their tea went cold while they sat kissing like two virginal teenagers. "You don't have to give up work, if you don't want to. My housekeeper will do all the cooking and cleaning. I will get a nanny to help the children. I noticed that little Greg is not doing well in Math. I will hire a tutor,” Mycroft continued between kisses. "We should ask the older ones how they feel about changing schools. I might be able to get Lee into Harrow."

Greg pulled back, “Mycroft, you don’t have to…..”

Mycroft stopped him with a kiss, “I don’t have to. I would like to, with your permission. The world is a very hard place and if I can offer these children some small and easily arranged advantage then I would find it no hardship. In fact, I would find it very pleasing. I have longed for a family of my own for a very long time.” Mycroft kissed Greg tenderly once more, “I love you Gregory Lestrade, in all my life I have said those words to no one. I love my son, I love my family, but I have never once in all my years come across someone that I love the way I love you. Everything about you is simply lovely.”

“Lovely? I don’t think I’ve ever been called lovely before.” said Greg with a small smile because Mycroft was sincere.

“Perhaps not but you will be called so many times by me. You have lovely eyes, lovely hands, a lovely voice, and a lovely personality. To me you are quite literally the epitome of love. I am a fortunate man to have won you.” Mycroft knew his opportunities to be totally frank with his new partner would be rare. They were busy men and so it became even more important for Mycroft to establish his position as firmly as possible at the outset. Gregory could not marry him without understanding how Mycroft valued him as a person, and not simply as an available Omega.

Mycroft's eyes suddenly went wide. 

"What? What is it? Is something wrong?" Greg asked worried. 

"I just realized. I'm a grandfather," Mycroft muttered. "I'm...old."

Greg laughed a tiny bit, “You may be a grandfather but you are hardly old. You are younger than me and it’s going to be a long time before I admit that I’m old!”

Mycroft phone rang just as he was about to kiss Greg again. "I am sorry Gregory. Work never seems to give me a moment."

“That’s alright Mycroft. I need to rest anyway, I’ll see you when you get home?” Mycroft gave Greg a fond smile when the Omega used the word home. It was a home now.

“Yes my dear, don’t wait up though. My nights can sometimes run very late.” Greg knew this well enough. Both he and Mycroft were long used to keeping irregular and demanding hours.

Mycroft kissed him lightly and smiled as he thought that for the first time in his adult life he had reason to want to come home.

Greg fell asleep shortly afterward, still easily wearied and long sick of the special diet he’d been on. His injuries had been grievous and he was still adjusting to being essentially a whole new man. He wasn’t really an Omega anymore, though he still smelled vaguely like one. Mycroft’s scent was off too. He was an Alpha but his scent didn’t really bear the markers of the dominant gender, not like John’s did. John was pure Alpha, strong and commanding. Greg had seen the small man unconsciously dominated Alphas around him several times, usually to stop them from verbally lashing out at Sherlock for saying something they didn’t want to hear. Right now Greg was still adjusting to no longer having the hormonal cycle of an Omega. He’d never go into heat again. It took some getting used to.

When he woke up though it was late in the morning and Mycroft was curled up beside him on the narrow bed, not touching Greg at all but still protectively shielding the older man with his body. Greg thought Mycroft looked more handsome than ever while asleep. He’d never seen the Alpha like this before and found him even more charming than before. He still couldn’t quite believe his luck. He’d had feelings for the tall debonair Alpha for a long time, carefully suppressing them because even though he couldn’t help having them, he’d been a married man, with an Alpha of his own waiting for him. Now he was living a whole new life with a man who loved him despite his age, the fact that he ran his own business, and that he had five kids! It was a handful of miracles.

Mycroft woke and almost fell off the bed. "Oh...sorry. I...um..." Mycroft bowed his head. "I know that I shouldn't have presumed but..." he said as he stood beside the bed wearing only pajama pants. Mycroft turned to leave but stopped as he realized that Greg was not protesting.

“That was probably the nicest morning I’ve had in a long time.” said Greg sincerely, “I hope to keep waking up and seeing your face first thing. It sounds like a pretty nice way to start as many days as I can manage.”

Mycroft turned and smiled. "The last time I woke with a man in my bed was when we were just boys and I was sharing a bed with my brother, not counting the times that Sherlock crawled into bed with me. He used to have the most horrible nightmares. But he was just a child."

Greg was a bit surprised. “You’ve never slept with anyone? Ever?”

"Not that I haven't had sex. But I have not slept with any of them," Mycroft replied. "Would you sleep with me?"

Greg smiled over at Mycroft who actually seemed unsure, “I’d really like that. I’d prefer it even.” Sleeping next to Mycroft must be the reason he felt so rested, and that the ache in his abdomen seemed so much less than it had been. “I’m pretty tired of this hospital bed too, it’s been ages since I’ve slept in a normal bed.”

"It is early still. Would you like to come to my bed?" Mycroft asked. "My office knows not to disturb me until 7 unless the world is ending."

Greg felt bright and happy, more so than his body which protested at being forced to walk, though he could manage. At this stage of his recovery he was mostly stiff with new scar tissue, it would take some time for that stage to pass. Mycroft was very accommodating, helping Greg by pulling down the coverlet, plumping up the pillows and helping the wounded man to lie comfortably on the luxurious bed, “Oh my god. I’m never leaving here.” he groaned. He felt supported all over but it still felt like he was laying on a cloud.

"Not as convenient as a hospital bed but much more conducive to sleep," Mycroft told him. He went around the other side and slipped easily in beside Greg. He sighed. "My little broth...my son is right. With the right person, this feels good."

It certainly felt good to Greg. There was something about Mycroft’s presence that he found addicting. Perhaps it was his cool over-politeness that Greg knew disguised a deeply passionate man, or the way his scent seemed to blend perfectly with his own to become a gentle perfume, or the way Mycroft’s lips were kissing his forehead with tenderness made Greg want to absolutely melt into bedding from sheer happiness.

"It is alright if you wish to...cuddle," Mycroft said. Greg was beginning to realize that Mycroft had experienced little physical affection in his life. "Tell me what it was like when you were little, before Sherrinford became Moriarty?" Greg asked.

Mycroft stared at Greg, completely blindsided by the request. “You want to hear about Sherrinford? Why? He was a murderous criminal.”

“He was your older brother first, you loved him. I know you feel badly that he’s gone and I know you miss him. I didn’t know anyone apart from Moriarty but you did. He mattered to you so he matters to me. So? What’s your favorite memory of being a kiddie?” Greg reached out and hand and gently touched Mycroft’s face, just cupping his jaw and cheek slightly to show that he was there to support Mycroft in any way he could.

"We were close. Very close. Neither of us would sleep if the other wasn't in the room. More often than not one or the other would simply slip into the others bed. It was hell when Ford went away to school. I was 10. I nearly failed school that term. But once Ford had come home for the holidays and he promised to come home again every holidays, I was able to get back to my studies. Actually that is when I first began putting time into my studies, because I was bored without Ford there when I came home from school. Mommy would chase me outside for my health but I wasn't social so I had no friends to visit so I would take my books with me. I never quite got the hang of friends. We were both happy those holidays before Ford reached puberty. That was when we were separated."

“That’s sounds like a raw deal Mycroft. It sounds like you lost a lot all at once. You lost your brother and your kids all at once. I’m sorry Myc!” Greg pulled Mycroft in for an unexpected hug, the Alpha almost stiff with shock at first for being so familiarly handled but then he nearly purred with pleasure as he felt the pliant body beneath his. Greg really did smell delicious but Mycroft had to be careful of him. He was still in a delicate state.

"Ford blamed me for getting the mumps. His fever went to his brain and he had inflammation of the testicles. He became paranoid. He ran away from school and until the day he died I didn't see him again. We only knew he was alive because sometimes he would draw on his trust fund," Mycroft said, his voice breaking a bit and he turned his head to hide his tears.

“It wasn’t your fault, it was an illness neither of you could help. Oh Myc!” Greg pulled Mycroft in close and held him softly, whispering, “It’s alright to mourn, it’s okay. You don’t ever have to hide these things from me. It’s okay Myc.” Greg kissed the top of Mycroft’s head and stroked his back soothingly.

It was exactly 7am when Mycroft's phone rang. It played God Save the Queen. Mycroft answered it so fast that he nearly fell out of bed. "Mycroft Holmes," he said in his most serious voice. Greg wondered if it really was. "That is correct, Mam. It is kind of you to call. It is both a blessing and a shame." Mycroft walked away from the bed as he spoke.

Oh my god Mycroft was on the phone with the Queen! Greg suddenly felt the urge to tidy himself and to sit up somehow. He struggled to right himself, watching Mycroft’s back as he spoke softly into his mobile. Greg bit back a pained yelp when he sat too quickly and pinched the new scars on his abdomen hard.

Mycroft turned quickly to Greg. He had already shut off his phone. He rushed to Greg's side. "Are you alright Gregory? Should I call the nurse?"

Greg was entirely embarrassed, “God no. I just…well I was being a bit silly. I knew who you were talking too and suddenly I felt weird just lying there. I tried to sit up. Bad idea.” Mycroft helped him ease back down and the pain subsided.

"I know it has been a month and it must be horrific to have to lie there but I had to assure the hospital that I could care for you at home so you could be with your children. Actually, I lied. I told them I was your new Alpha." 

Greg smiled. "I know. Nurses talk."

Mycroft blushed and looked away for a moment, “You don’t mind?”

Greg thought carefully. Allowing Mycroft to publicly claim him didn’t feel terrible. For once Greg felt like he was really wanted for himself, and not just for his very desired Omega status, not that he really had that anymore. Mycroft was an amazing man and Greg would be proud to be known as his. With this man as his mate Greg would never have to worry again about being too unusual, nor would his independence be a threat to his Alpha. “I really don’t mind. I kind of like it actually.”

Mycroft sat down on the edge of the bed facing Greg. His fingers played along Greg's cheek and jaw. "You are incredibly handsome, Gregory. I am honoured." Mycroft had never thought that he would be able to have an Omega of his own. There were too few Omegas and Mycroft could not offer children. He had resigned himself to a life alone because he just didn't find women sexually attractive. Oh, he could admire their beauty but there was no way he was going to have one in his bed.

Greg’s mouth quirked into a smile, it had been a very long time since anyone had called him handsome. His late Alpha had been very sparing with her compliments. “You are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” he said artlessly, his appreciation bold and sincere.

Mycroft bent and kissed Greg passionately but gently. "Promise me you will rest. I have to go to work. The nurse will get you anything you want."

Greg was soothed by Mycroft’s attentions and his bed was so very comfortable, “I’ll probably nap again. Will you be gone long?” Mycroft understood that Greg wasn’t being needy. They both new long hours were part of the deal. 

"I'm afraid so. Someone is blackmailing the countries gentry again. As if it ever stops, but you didn't hear that from me," Mycroft winked.

Greg grinned back knowing he was now in possession of a rare tidbit. Mycroft was showing Greg he trusted him and his heart swelled with affection for the man in front of him. “Well, I’ll wait as long as necessary Myc. I’ll be here when you come home to me.”


	33. Little Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft has successfully woo'd Greg Lestrade and now there are so many plans to be made.

Sherlock dropped into his armchair in shock. "You have taken an Omega!" 

"It was your suggestion, Sherlock, and Gregory is quite compatible.” Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"But you're both so old. You're ancient. Do ancient people still take an interest in these sorts of things?" Sherlock looked mildly horrified.

"You realize that he will not go into heat and he won't be able to..." John started. 

"I am well aware of Gregory's medical condition, John. He has been living at my flat for the past month," Mycroft told them. 

"He's been..." John began but seemed too shocked to continue. 

"With his 5 children. But we digress. I am here to ask Sherlock to investigate a series of blackmail, or don't you go in for that sort of thing anymore now that you care for two babies?"

Sherlock stood up as gracefully as he could manage, the rounded belly he still had from being pregnant not quite gone yet. “We can but why should we? John doesn’t have to listen to you anymore.” Pride stung Sherlock went over to the cribs and fussed over his babies while ignoring his father. Truth be told Sherlock was going a bit stir crazy. He loved his babies, he really did but he loved the work he did with his Alpha too, “You have to ask John as is proper.”

"Since when do you care for that nonsense?" Mycroft asked.

“Since I realized John can tell the difference between a case that’s a three and a case that’s an eight! I don’t want to waste my time solving a problem you could have sorted yourself with two minutes thought! Ask John and tell him the details.” Sherlock refused to look at his father. Since he’d given birth and since the arrival of Grace Sherlock’s inner Omega had been very dominant. John was good about it, allowing Sherlock to simply react to his animal nature when they were alone and helping Sherlock try to be more like his normal self when they were in company. The Alpha knew his mate didn’t like being a slave to his biology but at the same time that was no reason to deny who you were. Sherlock was a new mother, an Omega, and his body demanded he act the part.

"I know who the blackmailer is I just need your help to catch him without him killing someone," Mycroft explained. He handed the case file to John. "Do you think I might hold my grandchild?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes but picked up William and deposited him in Mycroft’s arms. As Mycroft seated himself with a soft smile Sherlock returned and stuck Grace in Mycroft’s arms as well so the older Alpha had a baby in each one. Grace promptly spit up but gave her grandfather a fatuous smile while William kicked Mycroft repeatedly in the ribs. Mycroft looked delighted.

"Are you claiming them as your nephew and niece or as your grandchildren?" Sherlock asked.

"You heard me." 

"You have talked to Mummy and Daddy?" Sherlock asked. 

"It isn't their decision." 

"But it does affect them and me and my children," Sherlock added. 

"You look tired. Hasn't the nanny been doing his job?" Mycroft asked. 

"When Sherlock lets him," John muttered. "You have been cooped up inside for too long, Sherlock. It is time you got out for a bit." 

"My doctor advised that I avoid direct sunlight for a while," Sherlock replied.

John rolled his eyes now, “I said get out of the hot sun for one afternoon Sherlock, not close yourself up in the house like a vampire.” The Alpha turned to Mycroft, “Tell me about the case then.”

"Captain Sebastian Moran, I believe you treated him in Afghanistan. But don't worry if you don't remember him. I expect you treated a lot of soldiers. He came home and took up with Moriarty. Two Alphas, a strange mix, but not totally unheard of. He has been trying to get Sherlock's and my attention ever since Moriarty died," Mycroft said. 

"Sherrinford, Mycroft. Don't you know your own brother's name?" Sherlock growled. 

"NO!" Mycroft snapped loudly. "Moriarty. The man who died in that church was nothing like Sherrinford." The babies started crying at the loud angry voice. Mycroft hushed them and rocked them gently.

John gave Sherlock a look that told him to stop provoking the other Alpha needlessly, Mycroft smelled of grief as well as joy. John understood the conflict inside the older man, “He might have started out as your uncle Sherlock, but by the end, he was only Moriarty.” John turned back to Mycroft, speaking respectfully, “I don’t recall Moran directly but then I did treat dozens of soldiers every single day for years. There were a lot of AA pairings in the army, it happens. You watch each other’s back and bonds form, not mating bonds necessarily but bonds all the same. If Moran had left the service quickly it would have been very easy for another Alpha to attract him, especially if he could offer Moran something that he was comfortable with.”

"Moran was released as psychologically unfit for active service. Like you, John, he enjoyed the war a bit too much but he was a marksman whereas you as a doctor were considered less dangerous to your own people," Mycroft continued. 

"He likes to kill," Sherlock interpreted.

“Yes Sherlock he likes to kill and not quickly. Unlike your John Moran prefers to lessen the enemy by removing them entirely, not patch them up and send them back for another round. He’s known to be ruthless, manipulative, deadly, and very creative. He specializes in long-range kills but has a long history of wet-work. He had a reputation for completing any mission he was sent on.”

"Even if the mission has been called off?" John asked. Mycroft nodded. "I know the type." 

"And am I the mission?" Sherlock asked. 

"You and the children," Mycroft replied. 

"You’ve known this for a while, haven't you and yet you let us go on without protection..." John began angrily. 

"Hush, John," Sherlock said. "We have been under constant guard."

John looked hard at Sherlock and then Mycroft who answered, “All the staff are trained bodyguards, the street has been filled with “homeless” people who aren’t what they seem, there are four new employees at Speedy’s who are here to watch over you, and a large amount of other people whom you should not have laid eyes on if they were doing their jobs correctly. I have exactly one son and two grandchildren John, I would not risk them.”

"And you have seen the children nearly every day since they were born though you would have us believe that this is your first visit," Sherlock added. "Do you have a camera in the nursery as well?"

“Of course I do Sherlock! They cannot be protected enough. I may have seen my grandchildren but it’s not quite the same as being allowed to hold them!” Mycroft sighed as Sherlock stubbornly removed his children from his father’s arms and lay them back in their crib together, “I will do everything in my power to keep them safe.”

"I know you will," Sherlock said. "I expect the camera in our bedroom to be removed within the next two weeks." 

"In our bedroom?" John asked.

“No John, there are none there nor have there ever been. That’s really the last thing I would want to have reviewed. Please, never mention it again.” Mycroft’s face pulled into a mildly revolted expression.

"You are getting soft in your old age," Sherlock told him. 

"Middle age, thank you very much," Mycroft replied, as he dabbed at a mark on his jacket that Grace had left. "You and the children are invited to afternoon tea on Sunday. Gregory's children will be there."

Mycroft knew his Omega missed the children and had called their grandparents to arrange a visit. Mycroft was having the entire family brought in for the day. John nodded his acceptance, “I’d like to see how Greg is doing anyway.”

"Are we doing social visits now?" Sherlock asked. 

"Time goes very quickly for children, Sherlock. If you remember, you were in school by the time I returned home from boarding school. We barely even saw each other when I was off to university." 

"I do remember the summer holidays. I remember you had an unhealthy interest in the gardener," Sherlock replied with a smirk. 

"Hardly unhealthy," Mycroft replied.

“Well you certainly got your exercise.” said Sherlock snidely before receiving a look from John that made him stop needling his father, “Very well Mycroft, let me call Jeremy. I’ll need him to help with the babies if we’re going anywhere.” Sherlock made a dramatic frowny face.

“Is Jeremy displeasing you Sherlock? You are not required to keep using him if you’re not comfortable.” said Mycroft with a small frown.

John shook his head, “Sherlock likes Jeremy just fine. Sherlock is just an over-protective mother who won’t let even the nanny within arms-reach of the babies. He hasn’t let Jeremy do more than wash bottles and do the baby laundry.”

Mycroft laughed. "Getting soft, Sherlock? I would not have taken you for the Mommy type," he teased.

“Being a mother is the most challenging thing I’ve ever done Mycroft. William and Grace need me twenty-four hours a day, not just when it’s convenient.” Being with his mother constantly had actually helped stabilize little William so he was catching up with his sister faster than anticipated. Grace was fat and happy, full of bubbles and gummy smiles. The Omega looked down, “Leaving them for the first time will be difficult but I know it is happening. Call Jeremy, we’ll take the case.”

"William is fine, Sherlock. Do you think I hire the finest doctors in London for nothing? Just watch, in a couple of years he will have caught up with Grace and by the time he hits puberty he will be just like you." Mycroft turned to John. "By the way, I don't know what you are doing to him but Sherlock is putting on quite some muscle mass."

“I just make sure he eats properly. If anyone else had bothered to watch him he wouldn’t have spent most of his life half-starved from stubbornness.” John bribed Sherlock shamelessly with kisses and affection to make sure his mate ate enough. Even if Sherlock wasn’t nursing being a mother was an exhausting job and Sherlock needed every calorie. His body was now covered with a hard layer of wiry muscle. Sherlock would never be bulky but he was no longer wraith-like.

Mycroft got to his feet. "Well this isn't getting my work done. Call me if there is anything you need. All the information I have is in the file. I don't see why you can't hold one of your babies while you think." Mycroft knew exactly how John literally fed Sherlock when he was being stubborn about food. John had done more than a few late night and early morning trips to the store to get Sherlock exactly what he wanted during his pregnancy. It was amusing that this couple had turned the usual expectations of Alpha/Omega dynamics backwards and made it work perfectly.

Mycroft smiled at John and Sherlock when they turned away and began bickering with each other like they’d been a couple for long years instead of barely one. John was so different from the Alpha’s Mycroft knew. He was a perfect fit for Sherlock and Mycroft was aware that coming across John was as miraculous as coming across his dear Gregory.

Mycroft's phone rang by the time he got to the door. "I am on my way. Well, have a copy of the file sent to Sherlock. Yes, he has taken the case. I suggest that if you haven't heard from me before the deadline that you pay, unless you want all your dirty laundry aired in public. Yes, well your secrets are not my concern. Catching the blackmailer is. No, they are not the same."

Sherlock cackled a bit as he listened to his father. In some ways the two men were very alike, “I’ll be expecting the files soon Mycroft.”

"Now if you will excuse me," Mycroft smiled as he put his phone away. "I have to stop two miniscule countries from trying to blow each other off the face of the planet and making the rest of us suffer the consequences for the next millennium."

"It's what you get for letting Goldfish play with bombs," Sherlock said.

“Indeed Sherlock.” Mycroft took his leave but as he walked away he sent a message to Gregory, “Off to another meeting but thinking of you. – MH”

Greg was propped up with pillows in Mycroft's bed as he watched the big screen tv. It had taken him a while to stop it switching back to the news channels every few minutes and he was worried that Mycroft would be angry about that, but he didn't want to watch the news. He was checking out the shows that his children were presently watching so that he could make sense of what they were saying. He was surprised when a message came in and the nurse brought him his phone from his room. There was a racket outside as someone had come to remove the hospital bed. He smiled at the message from Mycroft. He text back "Missing you." He was going to write more but the physio-therapist arrived for his morning exercises.

For his part Mycroft was pleasantly warmed by the instant and affectionate response. Gregory was a treasure. Mycroft loved him so much and it was all so easy with the silver-haired man. Mycroft found he was eager to get through his work, quickly going through his schedule to see how he could reduce the amount of hours he’d be required to be available. After he was done he had arrived at his meeting in good humor.

Sherlock sat on the couch with John, both had perfected the art of feeding their babies during the day. William was in Sherlock's arms and Grace in John's as they fed them bottles that Jeremy had prepared. "Dr Watson, if I may," Jeremy said. He adjusted John's fingers on the bottle so that he had one finger under Grace's chin and could feel her swallowing.

“We’re beginning work again Jeremy. I suppose it’s time for me to let go a little.” said Sherlock reluctantly.

Jeremy smiled over to him, “You know they’ll be loved every second you’re away. All of us are going to be fighting over who gets to play with them first.”

"I want no favouritism. But remember that William needs more rest than Grace. His immune system is weaker than Grace's so don't use any of her things on him." 

"Sherlock..." John said. 

"No more than 10 minutes of direct sunlight and never in William's eyes. Never place anything over their faces." 

"Sherlock, Jeremy isn't stupid," John interrupted. 

"Of course not, he has learnt to read enough to use the computer in a matter of months." 

"Yes, and you have told him all of this hundreds of times," John added. "Jeremy knows how to do his job."

“I raised my son myself. You’ve seen him. He turned out alright. It’s only for little pieces of time Sherlock, I swear that I will keep them safe and as happy as I can.” Jeremy was smiling encouragingly at Sherlock who was a typical new mother trying to break away from his nest for the first time. Sherlock needed to work though, no matter how he adored his babies Sherlock’s mind was very demanding, it needed to be used.

Sherlock seemed fine when the babies were asleep after their feed and they left the flat to go interview the first of the people on the list who were being blackmailed by Moran, but Sherlock was particularly mean to the man, telling him he was an idiot to get himself into the situation in the first place. Then when they were in the taxi on the way to the next person to interview, John noticed the tear running down Sherlock's cheek and how he was clasping his hands tightly together.

“Tell me what’s wrong love?” John took Sherlock’s hand and just allowed Sherlock to feel the love he had for him, it was very upsetting for the Alpha to see his mate beginning to cry.

He wiped the tear with his free hand. "It is nothing,' he said.

“Don’t hide from me Sherlock, what’s wrong, really.” John wiped a tear away and leaned over to kiss Sherlock’s cheek.

"It's silly, John. I am just being sentimental," Sherlock told him.

“Do you want to go home to kiss the babies?” offered John who knew what Sherlock was missing.

"We have work to do," Sherlock replied. John rang Jeremy. "Turn the phone camera on like Sherlock showed you and show me the babies." He then handed the phone over to Sherlock.

The Omega was smiling tearily as Jeremy showed both babies sleeping hard and drooling lightly. Sherlock stared for a couple of minutes then handed the mobile back to John, kissing his mate tenderly, “Thank you John. That helps.”

"Thank you Jeremy. You can hang up now," John told him. He then called Mycroft. 

"Yes? Is everything alright? Sherlock? William? Grace?" Mycroft actually sounded panicked.

“We’re fine Mycroft, I just wanted to tell you we’re already moving on to the next set of interviews. Do you want us to stop in and check on Greg?”

"If you are passing, but don't disturb him if he is resting," Mycroft said. 

"And Mycroft, the feed from the baby surveillance, put it through to Sherlock's phone," John said. 

"Of course, I should have thought of that," Mycroft replied. John noticed how much easier it was to deal with Mycroft since the babies were born. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from the man.

John got them to Mycroft’s house in short order and was granted instant access by the staff who now recognized John as the family Alpha. Greg was laying in the master bedroom still, flipping channels on Mycroft’s gigantic telly, “He has the whole thing hidden behind a curtain most of the time.” said Greg by way of greeting.

"Have you seen what they are doing in your living room?" John asked. 

"No, what are they doing?" 

"You know that spiral slide at McDonald's?" Sherlock asked.

“Yes? No…no he isn’t. Tell me I haven’t been hearing what I think you’re about to tell me I’ve been hearing. All that banging…John?” Greg tried to sit up to look but his stomach refused to play nicely and he lay back with a groan.

"Relax, Lestrade. It is outside. It's a fire escape designed to keep children from being scared. It is apparently also an easy way of Mycroft getting your children out of his living room since it is connected to the flat below. They appear to also be installing a spiral stair case and a fireman's pole between the floors," Sherlock told him.

“My kids are demon monkeys. Does he have any idea what he’s starting?” Greg was so thrilled and terrified at the same time. Given half a chance most of his kids would be hanging from the ceiling by their feet. Giving them slides and poles to play with, well, there could be real mayhem in the otherwise stuffy man’s house. Greg’s heart was so full of love for Mycroft for being considerate enough to do this for him.

"He will do everything he can to please you and make your kids happy, Greg, even turn his home into a playground." John told him.

Greg grinned, “He’s really amazing, isn’t he.”

Sherlock snorted and started to say something but John cut him off, “He’s going to do everything he can to look after you the best way he knows how.”

"Excuse me, it's time for Mr Lestrade's pills," the nurse said as she entered the bedroom. "Will you be staying for lunch? I'll have to let Felipe know." 

"No, we have work to do," Sherlock said. "Come along, John." 

"I wonder if Felipe will show us downstairs before we go, see if Mycroft has turned the place into a playground," John joked.

“Everyone here will do exactly as you say John, you are Mycroft’s Alpha, they will not deny you.” replied Sherlock without humor.

"What?" John asked. 

"You are the top Alpha of the family, John. The entire Holmes family estates including the trust accounts are in your hands. You can just walk into any of the places not individually owned and do as you please. You could even throw Mycroft out of here, if you so pleased. This is why we didn't want Sherrinford to control the estates. He would have tossed the entire family out on the streets with no money. "

John hadn’t really understood, somehow he thought his position was mostly honorary, a figurehead of sorts. Mycroft still did everything and then John realized that Mycroft was doing exactly what John had told him to do! John looked at Greg, “I’d never do that. You, your kids, Mycroft, everyone who’s here will always have a place.”

“We know that John, that’s why Mycroft was in such a twist for so long until the babies were born. He knew he could trust you to be honorable. You’re definitely preferable to an insane alpha with evil master-mind tendencies.”

John and Sherlock got a preview of the flat before they hailed a taxi to go off to the next interview. It was definitely a child's dream home, or at least getting that way. Mycroft was catering to every new gadget that a child could wish for. But he was also thinking of some more old fashioned pastimes, like musical instruments and books. "Most of the estates are self-managed so you will not be bothered by the daily running. In fact unless you want to drastically change the way things are run there is very little to do but signing documents at the end of the financial year. The accountant will present you with the relative papers. There is of course the distant relatives who still get an allowance, and there is an occasional complaint about the amount of the allowance or whether or not the allowance should continue into adulthood in the case of cousins etc." Sherlock continued as they headed off to the next interview.

“It sounds hideously boring. I’m making Mycroft take care of everything. We can meet regularly for reports but I am NOT arguing with your distant cousins for rises to pay for their self-indulgent lifestyles! I mean really Sherlock, are you and Mycroft the ONLY ones who went out and got jobs of your own?” John smelled annoyed and proud at the same time. Sherlock was so thrilled all over again that he had an Alpha who genuinely appreciated Sherlock’s unusual skill set.

"The younger ones become accustomed to having a regular income while at school and then expect it to continue afterwards. Where the financial affairs of most families branch off with each new generation, the Holmes family estates are still supporting the children of cousins so distantly removed that the Holmes name is just part of their ancestry," Sherlock informed him. "Mostly they aren't even in the running for inheritance, even though many of them get paid as managers and caretakers of the estates. There is Cousin Alfred though who works the farm he lives on and actually makes a profit. Every time I have seen him he has been up to his knees in mud or got his hands inside some sort of farming equipment, making repairs. He doesn't just manage the property, he actually works it. The Alpha children of all the others think that it is their right to take over from their Alpha parent, but it is really far from the truth. If you so pleased you could turf the lot of them out without any more allowance." 

They stopped at a rather large house, mansion, John would call it. Sherlock left John to pay the taxi as he walked ahead to ring the bell. "The Honorable James Wilcox is a Beta. He is being blackmailed because he is gay. I'm not too familiar with Beta society but apparently liking men is scandalous for a Beta."

“That is just the strangest thing to be offended over! If Alphas and Omegas were like that the entire species would just stop!” John had a hard time understanding gender based problems like this. It was worse in its own way then the discrimination that Omega lived with. Betas convinced themselves that only opposite genders were appropriate to wed and didn’t take kindly to anyone rocking their prudish boat.


	34. Getting Sorted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John are beginning to pick up their old life now that the babies are safely born.

Sherlock walked out on a useless argument with James Wilcox and got in the taxi which seemed to have appeared from nowhere. John always wondered if Sherlock had some sort of magic which made taxis appear because when he wanted one he had to wait for ages. When John got into the taxi, Sherlock told the driver to take them home. John lent in to see what Sherlock was looking at on his phone though he already suspected. Apparently, Mycroft had a camera in the crib. Jeremy was tickling Grace who was wiggling and giggling as much as a one month old could co-ordinate.

John was thrilled to see his baby girl but also very upset about how people insisted on treating Omega. The interview had not gone well because the man would not speak directly to Sherlock, continually acting as if the taller man were somehow simple instead of brilliant. Only John’s self-control and respect for his mate kept him from stepping in and telling the Beta off. Being interviewed by a same-sex couple while being blackmailed for possibly being homosexual did not sit well with the image-conscious man who foolishly requested that John “settle his pet”. John had hard words for the man after Sherlock stalked out, “You have just been rude to the one person who could have made all your problems go away. You’d better hope the case itself is interesting enough to keep Sherlock on it or your blackmailer is going to be owning you soon enough.” John stomped out then, leaving the sputtering man in his wake.

Mycroft was sitting in the living room when they arrived. "The Honorable James Wilcox has influential friends." 

"The man is an idiot. He is going to be paying every blackmailer who happens across him for the rest of his life, all because he likes cock. I like cock, you like cock, John likes cock, most woman likes cock, certainly every Omega in existence likes cock and every man likes cock even if it is only his own. What is wrong with him?" Sherlock replied.

“Consider it a cultural conundrum Sherlock, Betas have a very different life than Alphas and Omegas and much like us they have become hidebound and pedantic about certain things. For many Beta their version of the Alpha and Omega bond means man and woman. It’s a spiritual thing. Try to understand.” Mycroft was patient as he tried to explain the matter to his son.

“Nothing he’s doing is wrong except that someone else has told him it is! If he is so easily shamed into silence how is he possibly any use to his position? He may have influential friends but locking himself into a theoretical closet can do nothing but hurt him as an individual.” Sherlock was derisive. “His friends can do nothing to us. I am gay, married to a man, and I see nothing wrong with that.”

"Please set up and interview with Lady whatshername," Sherlock said. "You work with her, what is she like and what is she being blackmailed over. Would she be willing to reveal her secret to the world in order to catch Moran?"

“The Lady in question is highly respected, very married, and the mother of three children. Her personal peccadilloes include a rather interesting fascination with domination, as her membership in a handful of exclusive London clubs could attest to, if they did such a thing. Their client’s privacy is well guarded though I suppose in a way that narrows your scope. Someone close to her is either directly blackmailing her or providing the means. This is your job Sherlock, not mine. John has given me much to do.”

"What? What are you doing with John?" Sherlock asked.

John looked at his mate, “I’m cleaning house. Do you have any idea how many people this family funds? Mycroft sent me a list, it’s massive! I’ve asked Mycroft to go through the trust and begin analyzing who deserves to be a part of it and who to let go. I want to focus our resources on those who enhance the family, not pay for a bunch of leeches to be fat and lazy.”

"Well, I hope that you don't go cutting off those in need," Sherlock said. 

"Meaning Omegas who are dependent on their allowance," Mycroft translated. 

"I have been meaning to talk to John about an Omega school where they are educated properly not just what people expect of Omegas. You ensured my education and it has certainly not hurt me any. Would you be calling on me now to aid you with catching Moran if I was an illiterate moron?"

“If I had given you nothing at all you would have found something for yourself Sherlock, that is the very large difference between you and nearly every other omega out there, with the lovely exception of my dear Gregory. Still, I think that’s a very laudable idea but it is of course, up to John.”

“Well I’m entirely in favor of it! Imagine the resources we’ll free up once we get rid of the dross. Get pruning Mycroft, get planning. I want you to locate someone who can help us design a proper Omega school, and I want Sherlock to have the last word over the curriculum.” John was looking at his mate with blatant pride, his scent heavy with appreciation as well as adoration for his singular Omega. “See about remote training as well, satellite schools where we can reach families not centered around London. Those are the places where the old ways cling hardest, there and of course among the aristocracy.” 

"The Watson-Homes School Network. What an excellent idea, John. Omega of all ages could receive a proper education. But first you must tell every Alpha who draws on the family funds that they must educate their Omegas and not just the children," Sherlock said. "Do you realize that there are Alphas out there who don't even teach their Omega children to read and write? Jeremy for instance! He is immensely helpful and earning his own income after just a few lessons to refresh his reading and writing skills. Did you know that I have been tutoring him in the sciences and he can now use the laptop to google whatever knowledge he needs whenever he needs it."

Mycroft had a soft smile for his son’s enthusiasm, “Very well John, I will make this my priority project for the Family. If you will excuse me now, I must see to Gregory. I’ve been gone far too long.” Mycroft stood and with a polite nod to everyone he departed.

John went over and kissed Sherlock heartily, “We’ll make things better, together.”

Then he turned to Mycroft just as he was walking through the door. "Mycroft see if one of the computer companies will do an advertising deal to supply every Omega in the family with a laptop. You know the sort of thing. Sherlock Holmes the famous detective uses brand name computer to solve crimes."

Mycroft gave his son another soft smile, “Excellent notion Sherlock. Perhaps I can even engineer some sort of tax incentive to encourage the more reluctant ones to send their Omega for re-training.”

With Mycroft gone Sherlock picked up William. "You realize of course that he is nervous of leaving Gregory 'alone' with a construction crew even though he has a nurse and a housekeeper."

“Would you like me to leave you ‘alone’ with a house full of construction workers even if you had a nurse and housekeeper with you?” asked John instantly.

Sherlock scowled, “You would never!”

Mycroft was surprised to find Gregory having tea in the living room watching the construction. "Should you be out of bed?" he asked.

"The doctor came and said I needed to be out of bed more often now or the scar tissue will make it too painful for me to move. I need the physiotherapist to come for an hour a day instead of half an hour," Greg told him. "You are home early."

"I can do some of this paperwork at home. In fact there are matters of the Holmes family trust funds which you can assist me with, if you feel up to it. I need an Omega's perspective."

Greg had a crooked smile on as if he couldn’t quite believe Mycroft wanted his opinion on something, “Really?”

Mycroft had a laptop on a polished wood table on wheels. He pulled it over and opened up a program. “All these people draw on Holmes family allowances. John is now the head Alpha of the family and in charge of all allowances. He is culling the herd so to speak. But no one who actually needs to live on the allowance is to be culled. I believe you are capable of detecting lies. The family cares for its own. All Omegas, the sick, the disabled must still receive the allowance, but those who can work and do not need the allowance will be cut off. It is going to be difficult and every person will have to be reviewed. For instance Cousin Alfred draws on the allowance in lean years, but he works a farm owned by the family and he has put back into the family funds as much as he can in good years. His eldest Alpha son, however lives off the allowance despite having received a good education from the family funds. He thinks work is for other people. I would like to educate him further by enlightening him of the joys of employment," Mycroft explained.

Greg was grinning fully now. This was work he could sink his teeth into, it was very much like the work he was used to doing, and he’d done it well. Even Sherlock had grudging respect for Greg’s skills and he was reluctant to compliment anyone but John. “I can definitely help.” he said, and just beamed at his alpha.

They began going over the manifest and Greg pointed out several names that instantly caught his eye, all well educated people in their late twenties and thirties who had yet to secure work of any sort, “Those ones will be review first after I go through and remove those that don’t meet our criteria. I’ll re-check the keep list on a regular basis so we don’t end up accidentally keeping on people who eventually can be self-sufficient, like new graduates.” Greg was very in favor of how John insisted on keeping all Omegas, clearly cases like Jeremy’s would never happen as long as John was in charge.

"Not many of us would be able to continue in the fashion in which we have become accustomed should one or two of the properties fail. We tend to favour family in management of the properties but it has become apparent that the Alpha offspring of the managers feel that they should automatically take over after their Alpha parent. Not all are qualified for such," Mycroft explained. "Also John and Sherlock have a plan for the education of Omegas." Mycroft went on to explain.

“That’s fantastic, that school idea, not the Alpha children thing. John and Sherlock are really full of ideas aren’t they? For the family, maybe some kind of aptitude requirements could be set in place? Maybe once they realize they have to have actual skill and not just a bloodline they’ll get serious about being part of this family. Look at Sherlock, he works and you’ve pretty much spoiled him.”

“I tried but he resists. I’d actually have to say Sherlock has rejected nearly everything I’ve tried to provide for him and gone on to simply get it himself. Finding John was one of the few things I’ve been able to do for my son that he has not turned away. I searched for years for the right person. It’s also because of Sherlock that I met you, I find myself amply repaid for all I have attempted to offer my child.”

Mycroft lent over and despite the onlookers working on the renovations, he kissed Greg passionately. "Another thing we must arrange. I must meet your family." 

"You have. The children are all I have. Perhaps some distant cousins that I haven't kept in contact with but the children are it," Greg told him.

Mycroft caressed his mate’s cheek, “Do you wish to resume contact? I would be able to locate all of them easily.”

“Not really love, I mean, I don’t even know them except that my late parents mentioned them while I was growing up. I know they’re out there but I can’t say that I need or miss them. I’d be perfectly happy just having you and the kids as my family.” Greg tugged Mycroft down and returned the kiss he’d been given, with a bit extra added, “The doctor says I’m healing extra fast. I think it’s because of you.”

Felipe cleared his throat while he waited to find out if they required more tea. "Thank you, Felipe. That will be all." 

"When will all this construction be finished? I hope you will be getting me a maid. You can't expect me to clean both flats on my own," he said flamboyantly. Mycroft looked up at his colourful housekeeper. He was wearing a dress with a full skirt, pearls and long dangly earrings. "How you manage to do anything dressed like that I will never know but yes, if you require a maid I will get you one. But she will..." 

"HE!" Felipe interrupted. 

"He will have to actually do the work, you understand," Mycroft told him. "Of course."

Greg really liked Filipe who was so comfortable to be around as well as entertaining. He was hard-working, particular, but very good at maintaining the standards Mycroft expected. There was never a surprise guest that didn’t receive the very best treatment because of Filipe’s preparedness. “Do you have someone in mind Filipe?”

“Well there are two names I have but I want Mr. Greg to look them over first.” Filipe came over, “The first is Constance, she’s an older Beta, she used to manage a small estate but the family Alpha passed and his heir replaced the staff. She’s excellent but because of her age she has been having a hard time finding a position. The other is Graham, another Beta. Same kind of story except that he used to help raise the children as well as manage the home. Both of them have excellent references but haven’t been able to find a good post.”

"Then we shall hire them both. I am sure that Nanny Killchild will be pleased to have some help," Mycroft replied.

“Is that seriously the nanny’s name?” asked Greg.

“Unfortunately yes, try not to take exception to her.” said Mycroft gravely.

"Do you feel up to taking charge of the household, Gregory? It would be such a relief for me to know that someone competent is handling things at home while I am at work." Mycroft asked.

Greg’s face was going to split in two! Mycroft was being incredible, first asking for his input and now this! “If you’re certain then yes, of course I can. Are you very sure though?” It was a tad domestic and old-fashioned except that Greg wouldn’t be bound the same way other Omega were. His Alpha had asked him and there was the difference, Mycroft would only ever want Greg to do what he was willing to do. Keeping their home secure and running efficiently fit well within Greg’s skill set.

"Of course, or I would not have asked. But don't feel obliged. If you are not up to it or really do not want to, just say no," Mycroft told him. A passing worker stopped in front of Mycroft. He recognized him as the foreman. "Yes, what is it?" 

"It's about the Security Guard in the foyer." 

"What about him?" 

"He's missing."


	35. Gambits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft is frantic. Gregory seems to have been winkled right out from under him.

Mycroft got to his feet. "Felipe, stay with Gregory. You come with me." Mycroft grabbed two more of the construction workers as he headed for the elevator to the ground floor. The Foyer was empty. The guard's dinner was sitting half eaten on the desk.

Filipe nodded, looking worried and Greg was very unhappy about requiring special treatment. If he’d been healed all the way he’d be by Mycroft’s side protecting him. He wasn’t an average Omega any more than Sherlock was, in Greg’s own way he was just as strange and in the eyes of many, completely wrong. He didn’t care. Greg wasn’t an Omega anymore, he was just a man.

A construction worker appeared, “Mr. Holmes told me to bring Mr. Lestrade right down, he’s waiting.” Filipe and Greg both nodded. The worker had a wheelchair, “Mr. Holmes insisted.”

Greg didn't argue about the chair. He had walked about as much as he wanted to that day with the physiotherapist. When they got into the elevator Greg felt a sharp jab in his neck.

Mycroft came back a few minutes later, “Where is Gregory?”

Filipe was horrified, “You sent someone with a wheelchair to get him. They left just a few minutes ago.” Filipe ran to the window, “A car just left the lot Mr. Holmes, I’m sorry, I couldn’t see more than that it was black.” Filipe looked very upset.

Mycroft rang the security at 221A and made sure that Sherlock and the children were alright and secure. Then he rang for the footage from the security cameras in the car park.

Mycroft was tense and worried. Someone had walked right into his home where Gregory should have been safe and walked right off with him. His security team captured the plates and began to trace the vehicle’s movements through the CCTV system. It seemed to be going all over town, as if it didn’t have a specific destination but whatever the driver was up to Gregory was still getting further and further away. Finally Anthea called, “We’ve got a car tailing them and an agent on a motorcycle if the car gets spotted.” Alright then, they had living eyes on Gregory, that would help.

The security guard was found. He was passed out in the toilet. He woke enough to tell them that he hadn't been attacked. "I'm sick," he told them but they weren't convinced and had his dinner sent for analysis as well as having the guard taken to the hospital. All this was reported to Mycroft.

“Have you found anyone apart from Filipe who saw the kidnapper?” he asked the head of security and was frustrated to find that no one had. Most of the workers had been doing their jobs, not staring around to look at other people who looked like they belonged there.

John called, “Any ideas yet? Sherlock is starting to climb the walls here. He wants to help.”

"The car is being watched. They won't move in until they are sure that Gregory is safe," Mycroft said. He was panicking inside but he had been in enough stressful situations not to show it.

“I should be there Mycroft! I should be helping.” John was the Holmes Alpha and one of his people had been taken. John should go and be with Mycroft, assist finding Greg. He turned to Sherlock, “What do you think?” John was worried for his family too. He was leery about leaving Sherlock but at the same time he felt very anxious to go see Mycroft in person.

"I think that you must do what you feel is right, John. I am perfectly able to protect the children and there is ample security here. Let Hamish know before you leave," Sherlock said. John knew that he wanted to go with John but he kept glancing at the sleeping children. He rarely left them out of his sight and couldn't bring himself to leave them while he perceived them to be in danger.

“Okay. I’m going to see Mycroft then but I won’t be long. I just need to go see him.” John was feeling anxious but his nature was urging him to go so he did what was necessary to secure his home, his mate, and his children before he left.

Hamish looked serious, “Don’t worry John. We’ll do absolutely everything to make sure everyone is here when you get back.” It didn’t really make John feel better but he nodded anyway and departed right after he gave Sherlock and the babies several kisses. The sooner he left the sooner he could come home.

"If he was going to kill Gregory he could have done so here," Mycroft reasoned when John arrived at his place. "There is nothing to be done until the car arrives at its destination."

John could smell the distress on Mycroft. “We’ll find him Mycroft, your people are all over the city. Whoever this is has no idea what we’re willing to do to get him back.”

“What would that be John? Why would anyone want to take him? He can’t reproduce anymore, he can’t be farmed out during his heats, he doesn’t have them anymore. He doesn’t work with the Yard anymore. It’s me isn’t it. He got taken because I chose him.” Mycroft looked filled with self-loathing.

John called Filipe and asked him to bring Mycroft a whiskey. "You can't think like that," John told Mycroft. "Do you think that I have ever thought that I was worthy of Sherlock? What makes me worthy is that Sherlock loves me, and I know that Greg loves you. He knows that you will find him and rescue him. He is level-headed, used to stress and has probably even thought of a way to escape already."

"He is still in pain and has trouble moving, John. I should have had a guard at his side all the time," Mycroft said. "And then you would have a dead guard and Greg would have been pissed off with you," John replied.

John’s tactic worked and Mycroft relaxed imperceptibly, “Thank you.” Mycroft was glad all over again that he’d found John Watson for Sherlock. He really was an excellent Alpha, a natural leader, steady and reassuring. “Greg can be very resourceful when necessary.”

"I'm surprised that Sherlock let you leave his side," Mycroft said a few minutes later as he stared out the window waiting for news on the car.

“I didn’t really want to. I just felt that I had to be here.” said John simply.

"What would anyone want with Greg?" Mycroft asked. "Surely they don't think that they can use him against me." 

"You don't think it's Moran?" John asked. 

"Moran of all people would know that I would never reveal any states secrets, even for Gregory. I am sure that Gregory understands this," Mycroft said. "It's not state secrets he is after, Mycroft. He is after revenge."

Mycroft knew but had tried to deny anyway. His beautiful Gregory had been taken deliberately to strike right at him. Mycroft felt hollow for only a moment, “We’re getting Gregory back and I am going to take Moran to pieces myself.”

John couldn't help but smile. He had been worried that Mycroft couldn't love Greg as John loved Sherlock. But Mycroft was acting like Greg's Alpha even though nothing was official. Greg was claimed in Mycroft's heart. 

Mycroft's phone rang. He picked it up quickly. "Yes?" He listened and put it down. He frowned. 

"Mycroft?" John asked. 

"It's not stopping. It's heading north."

John could see the cogs whirling in Mycroft's brain. "Get me that surveillance footage of the car park. We could be having a decoy followed."

The footage was pulled up and John groaned as he and Mycroft spotted the clever moment when the cars switch and a definite decoy was picked up by their followers, “I’m getting the stored feed from the other cameras, Mycroft was typing fast on his mobile and John watched as a new trail was pieced together one feed at a time as they searched for the real vehicle that contained Greg.

"There! Can your people track that down with the CCTV footage?" John asked.

“Yes.” Mycroft was completely focused now, his fingers just flying as he sent out commands to various people. Information began to pour in.

Mycroft got a call only seconds later on his home phone. "BOOM! Oops! was that 221B?" Moran said and hung up.

John and Mycroft stared at each other in horror and simply raced from the building, piled into the first town car in Mycroft’s lot and raced back to Baker Street.

Both were frantically calling 221B and 221A. Neither was being answered. Mycroft even called Mrs. Hudson. Mycroft went white. He drew in a sharp breath and the phone dropped from his hand as he grabbed his chest.

“Mycroft! What happened! Mycroft, say something!” John sense of foreboding was intense. What could cause Mycroft to react like that?

Mycroft coughed but couldn't speak. He grabbed his left arm and looked at John. John knew the signs of a heart attack. But even as he realized what was happening, Mycroft seemed to be recovering. "Sherlock and the children first." Mycroft told him.

“Mycroft you’d better tell me what you were just told and NOW. SHERLOCK AND THE CHILDREN FIRST WHAT?” John was definitely issuing a command, the younger Alpha emitting dominant vibes in the extreme. 

"They were evacuating the buildings, both flats. They have the children in a safe house, but the car Sherlock was in hasn't turned up yet," Mycroft managed to say.

John almost couldn’t think but he made himself, “Tell me everything, what do we know?”

“Mycroft are you telling me Sherlock allowed himself to be taken?” The small Alpha became protective now, fiercely so. His Omega was threatened and John was not going to put up with THAT for long.

"I don't know, John," Mycroft replied with the same annoyance Sherlock had when he didn't know some information he needed. "He was supposed to travel in a separate car to the safe house but he hasn't arrived.

“We need to get back to 221 B. Why did Sherlock remove the children without telling me first? He must have discovered something. He would have left me a clue, something.” John felt sure of this. If Sherlock could, he’d leave John a trail to follow.

"All we know is that your nurse came upstairs to tell you that the equipment you ordered had arrived. Sherlock told them all to get out and rushed downstairs," Mycroft said as the pulled up opposite 221B. They had beat the police and bomb squad.

John couldn’t wait. He jumped out of the vehicle the instant it stopped moving. He raced forward, needing to see Sherlock, needing to find his mate. John hadn’t felt this kind of fear in a long time. He needed to find Sherlock.

His instincts led him to the clinic. Sherlock was leaning over a box that had the top open. "Get out, John. It's a bomb." 

Mycroft sat in the back of the car while the driver called an ambulance for him. “I’ll be fine. I need to know if Sherlock is alright. I must wait for John.” Mycroft wasn’t alright. He was growing strained looking.

Inside John was staring at Sherlock in utter horror, “Get away from it Sherlock, come on, leave it. I have to get you out of here!”

"The flats have been cleared but if this goes off it people could still be hurt or killed. If the building collapses...it is old, John, very old and we are standing on the oldest foundations in the street," Sherlock told him.

The pavements and surrounding buildings would collapse one after another; the underground structures would collapse with them until there was nothing left of Baker street but a rubble filled hole. John could care less about the building, “Sherlock. You can’t stay here. Sherlock we have to go now. Please!”

"Shut up! I am trying to think," Sherlock replied. He started ripping away the packaging from around the bomb.

John just about had a stroke, “What in the world are you doing! You’re going to set it off. Leave it alone Sherlock. Come away from it, please! Now! Please!” John wanted desperately to just dominate Sherlock, to order him away, wanted to save him but Sherlock had a look on his face and it stayed John’s impulses, “You’re scaring me Sherlock, please, come away.”

Sherlock reached beneath the bomb and flicked a switch. It was small and well hidden. "I love you, John." Sherlock said as he watched the timer drop below 10 seconds.

John sat down heavily and panted as if he’d run a race. “I love you too.” Shock and relief warred with one another, “Sherlock…how? What?”

Sherlock smirked. The timer has stopped at 7 seconds. "Despite what you may have seen on TV, John, people aren't quite that bright. It has been my experience that bombs of this sort come with a simple off switch in case the bomber gets held up. All that complicated stuff about which wire to snip is all show."

John was shaky but he nodded, “Kind of like the dramatic giving birth scenes. We both know that’s NOT the way it happens.” John had delivered enough babies in his day to know that the breaking water and slightly sweaty faces shown on screen were NOTHING like the reality of a delivery room. Sherlock nodded emphatically and stood.

"Now where's Mycroft...too scared to come inside after me?" Sherlock asked. 

"Oh God! I left Mycroft in the car having a heart attack," John gasped with realisation and grabbed Sherlock's hand dragging him out of there.

An ambulance was just pulling up. John raced to where he’d left Mycroft who was still clutching his chest but looking slightly better, “I’m fine. I’m fine. We have to find Gregory! We have to! I need to find him. Now John!”


	36. Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg has been taken so John and Sherlock work to retrieve him.

Sherlock tool hold of Mycroft's hand as they had him on the stretcher monitoring his heart. "I'll be fine, Sherlock. Go find Gregory for me."

Sherlock nodded and turned to John. "Moran will soon know if not already that his bomb has been disarmed. He will be more direct with me now."

"He's a sniper. We have to get you off the street," John replied.

John was reluctant to let the ambulance take Mycroft away without one of them with him but he insisted and so they let him go, “Alright Sherlock, where to now?”

“Not where, who, we need to get in touch with Mycroft’s assistant. She will be heading the team tracking down Lestrade.” Sherlock was on his mobile so John steered him off the street and into the relative safety of their town car.

As Mycroft watched John take Sherlock away the heart monitor spiked. "Load him," one of the ambulance men said after checking with the hospital.

The ride to the hospital didn’t do anything to help Mycroft. Every kilometer between himself and his son was a worry, not knowing how Gregory was faring was making knots form deep inside. Mycroft was finding it harder to breathe with every second that passed.

Sherlock talked with Andrea for a while as the driver took them to the safe house where the children were. "Turn left!"

"But Sir the safe house is..."

"I am not leading this maniac directly to my children," Sherlock told the driver. "Take us to the old River Palace warehouse. It's best we do this in isolation."

"You’re sure he can track us?" John asked. Sherlock gave him a look like John was being an idiot.

“Of course John, but since we know we can use it to our advantage. You don’t want him anywhere near our children or Jeremy do you? We have to get Greg back, and we can’t do what we need to do if we’re protecting them at the same time.”

Sherlock pulled a small case out of his coat pocket and opened it. John was surprised to find it contained along with other things a syringe. "Sherlock this is hardly the time," John began, but stopped with a yell as Sherlock stabbed him in the thigh. 

"You are now tagged." He showed John the app on his phone that displayed two blips on the screen in the same location. "I am the red one. You are the blue blip. Give me your phone."

“Dammit Sherlock you could have warned me!” John’s thigh throbbed now and he could feel a tiny hard dot underneath his skin that seemed to sink deeper until he couldn’t feel it anymore, “Sherlock seriously, that hurt.” 

John still handed over his phone and smiled a bit when Sherlock ducked over and kissed his sore thigh. “I’ve been assured that a mother’s kiss fixes everything. Stop whining now.” Sherlock began to do something with the mobiles with lightning swiftness.

When he handed John's phone back the app was active on it. "Let him take me. Trace me. When you are sure that I am either with Greg or I know where Greg is come get us. The driver is no doubt a trained security guard, he will help."

"Yes, Sir," the driver confirmed.

“No Sherlock, we are NOT separating! That’s what these gits have been trying to do! How will this be better?” John knew it was the only way right now but he couldn’t help protest. The last thing John wanted to do was let his Omega out of his sight. John worried desperately for him already, knowing full well what Sherlock was capable of letting himself do if there wasn’t someone, namely John, right beside him to tell him no.

Sherlock lent over and kissed John passionately to take his mind off his worries for a moment. He won far too many arguments that way. Like the time John had caught Sherlock and Jeremy lying face down on their bed watching porn on John's laptop, about a week after William was born. Sherlock had argued that it was research then asked Jeremy to leave. He then demonstrated his research on John. "So you see John, we needed go without sex just because you cannot penetrate me for next few weeks."

John savored the flavor of his mate’s mouth, caressing Sherlock’s cheek before stating, “I’m watching your every move Sherlock. BE CAREFUL.” he ordered unintentionally using his dominant voice. Sherlock shuddered delicately but almost like he enjoyed the feel of a definite order from his Alpha. “I know we need to rescue Greg but Sherlock…please, I won’t be able to handle it if anything happens to you. Are you SURE it has to be you that goes?”

"He won't take the bait for anyone less, John. Remember he wants you and Mycroft to suffer for Moriarty's death. He's an Alpha so he probably doesn't think Greg and I are worth anything but weapons against you. He could have killed Greg back at Mycroft's place but he didn't. That give me a reasonable doubt that he is going to kill us. But he might not be so lenient with you. Be careful."

John kept his mouth tightly closed because he knew very well what happened to Omegas that had been taken from their Alphas. The army had taught many things to doctors like John and more than once on his tours he’d needed to treat recovered Omegas who had been farmed out and used mercilessly. Of course Sherlock and Greg were far from helpless. Neither of them conformed to traditional Omega tendencies and John hoped that Moran didn’t see them as anything different than the easily cowed and uninformed breeders that many considered all Omegas to be. “I’ll be careful up to a point.” Moran was a dead man. That’s all John knew.

"You have your gun?" Sherlock asked.

“Of course I have my gun! Do you think I’d be running all over the place without it?” John was getting testy with worry. He needed to focus and calm down or he would be no use to anyone.

John took a deep breath and tried not to glare at his mate, “Why do you have Valium? Who gave that to you? No, I am NOT drugging myself before we go into a dangerous situation. Sherlock, how long have you been taking Valium?” John was very upset by this, especially if Sherlock were sneaking pharmaceuticals, “Don’t lie. I want the truth.”

"Don't be silly John. They aren't for me. I use them in situations when it is convenient to give me an advantage over an opponent," Sherlock told him.

John took a deep breath and made a note to find out EXACTLY what those situations were but now was not the time to scold Sherlock about his less than safe detective practices, “Just be careful Sherlock. Please. That’s all I care about. Greg is my friend and I would hate to mess this up but if it comes down to it, only you matter. Remember that. It’s always going to be you first so please, don’t make anything riskier than it needs to be.”

It worked both ways, but Sherlock wasn't going to let John know that he would give his life for his Alpha. It was not the sort of thing that Alphas wanted to hear. And though he would never intentionally hurt John, he would give his life for Greg now that Mycroft's happiness depended on Lestrade. John was strong and younger than Mycroft. He would find another Omega or even marry a woman. Their children would be loved and well looked after, but Mycroft had never shown such interest before and losing Greg would turn him into workaholic machine. He would never know that happiness again. He would also lose Greg's children because they hadn't yet signed a contract or married. No, these were not things that John would be pleased to hear. "I have no intention of dying, John."

John looked at him and Sherlock was stunned to realize John was reading his secret intentions as if Sherlock had blurted them out and the small Alpha’s brows furrowed. “No Sherlock. Not even for your brother’s sake. You have children. I will NEVER marry or mate again. Remember that.” John turned away, unwilling to make things even more emotional than they were. Time was running out.

"And I have every intention of being around to give you even more children, John," Sherlock said and kissed him again, just in time for them to pull up outside the warehouse that Sherlock had asked for. "Out, both of you. Head into the warehouse as if you are searching it. Take the car keys to make it more difficult for Moran to take the car. I don't want you stuck here without it. Don't come back until you can see on the tracer that I have left the area," Sherlock told them.

John pulled out the soldier in him and nodded briskly, they were on a mission now. Time for feelings later. John pocketed the car keys, gave Sherlock one more kiss to sustain him and headed into the warehouse as ordered. Sherlock had a plan and John would follow through.

Sherlock waited ten minutes in the car before getting out and looking bored. This could take quite some time. This might not work. Everything depended on Moran, what mood he was in, how intelligent he was, how patient he was; too many things. There was too much traffic noise both near and far for him to be able to discern a vehicle unless he drove right up to him. Sherlock lent against the car and steepled his hands in front of his mouth. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. They should have stopped for snacks and coffee for John. John was not at his best when his blood sugar dropped.

The man known to them only as the driver leant back against the wall of the warehouse looking around the place. It was one of those big empty places that people used to store tall equipment. With the miniaturization of just about everything and the need to air-condition just about everything had left these places mouldering relics of yesterday. "You know the wood in this building is probably a couple of hundred years old," he said casually. 

"Don't talk," John said. The driver stopped talking and lit up a cigarette. "Go search."

"The only things in this warehouse are dirt, old newspapers, pigeon droppings and leaky pipes. I can see it all from here," the driver replied. 

"I said don't talk. Just give me your mobile." The driver puffed cigarette smoke towards John but followed the Alpha. Sherlock sighed with relief and pretended to read the driver’s mobile until he felt a gun barrel pressed to the back of his head. Sherlock pretended to be startled when the phone was snatched out of his hand and tossed aside.

There was a contemptuous snort as Sherlock was walked backward away from John until he was out of sight around the corner and being shoved into the back of a van. He could smell the Alpha that had taken him. Sherlock’s nose was filled with stale sweat and rage, “Fucking Omegas. Useless fucking breeders.” muttered the man. He didn’t even bother securing Sherlock with more than handcuffs clipped to the floor of the back. Sherlock could smell traces of Greg and knew this was Moran. Sherlock remained silent and even whimpered a bit as if frightened.

The vehicle lurched into motion and Sherlock had to struggle not to roll his eyes. He could tell where they were going without seeing a thing. He made a mental map of the turns taken and how long they drove, estimating the speed until he knew they were in another industrial district. Sherlock had to struggle not to groan with disappointment but then carefully schooled his expression into one of fear. Sherlock allowed himself to remember what it was like thinking John might be hurt, allowed the fear to grow until he reeked of it. Moran pulled open the doors to the vehicle and laughed appreciatively, “Don’t struggle or I’ll just hurt you.”

Sherlock cooperated and allowed himself to be forced from the van and into the basement of an abandoned building. The scent of Greg was growing stronger.

Either Moran was a moron or Sherlock was a good actor because he didn't seem to remember that Sherlock was London's top detective. Being an Omega was an excellent tool against Alphas and Betas who usually thought that Omegas didn't even have a brain. 

Greg turned his head towards the stairs when he smelt the strong fear from an Omega. Then he saw that it was Sherlock and frowned. What could possibly make Sherlock so afraid unless...he feared the worse for John and Mycroft.

Sherlock was being herded into a closed room where Gregory was being held in a small cell. Sherlock was pushed into one of his own, the door clanging metallically behind him. Moran didn’t say a word to either of them, just sat down at his laptop and began to type in his demands. Sherlock could make out what he was saying by watching his fingers dance across the keyboard. He was almost disappointed all over again and felt the sting of professional pride being wounded. This ignorant Alpha had NO idea who Sherlock and Greg were! He was assuming they were run of the mill Omegas! Sherlock was very offended but kept his mouth shut.

Sherlock pretended to start crying. He folded himself up into a ball in the corner and wept loudly as he pulled out his mobile that Moran hadn’t even checked him for, assuming the driver’s mobile was the Omega’s. He tapped in their approximate address and sent the message to John and Mycroft. 

John looked at the message and frowned. He didn't even need to use the tracer to find Sherlock. "Damn it! Moran already has Sherlock," John growled at the drive and then gave him the address. John received a second message reminding John that Moran would have booby trapped their location.

John nearly growled with impatience as the driver made his way as quickly as he could toward Sherlock’s location. John’s entire body was tense and fight-ready. Another Alpha had taken his Omega and all of John’s instincts were demanding that he fix this situation immediately! He cautioned himself, got the driver to park a small distance away and went in alone. All of John’s training flooded back and combined with the rather startling things he’d learned from Sherlock John was able to spot how the door handle was set to trigger a trap and how the lower windows had alarms on them. There was nothing on the fire escape though which should have been out of John’s reach. He jumped, managed to catch the end enough to pull down the ladder and made it to the second floor.

John sniffed carefully. It was stale and dusty, no one was on this floor. He worked his way carefully to a stairwell that led downward. Sherlock was there, he was sure of it. Checking his gun John followed a dark hallway toward his mate.

Sherlock caught a whiff of John but it was clear that Moran hadn't. Sherlock was sensitive to his Alpha's scent after all. To Moran the scent could be any passing Alpha on the street. The air shifted and blew his scent away before Moran picked it up. "Lestrade?" Sherlock whispered against the wall.

“Got a plan?” whispered Greg immediately.

“John’s here. Stay small, don’t give Moran a target.” Sherlock kept his eyes off of Moran as much as possible. They were being ignored but Moran was finally sensing that someone was closer than the street. He picked up a handgun and went to the door suspiciously.

Greg put his feet up against the wall and pushed the cot he was lying on a bit from the wall. If necessary he would flip the cot and fall between it and the wall. He was well aware of the fact that he was in no condition to fight anyone. He felt annoyed that it had not been that long ago that he was a Detective Inspector at Scotland Yard. But if he admitted it to himself one of the reasons he had left was that it was basically a desk job and no one expected him to actually confront criminals and he was not likely to get any higher in the job just because he was an Omega. But he trusted Sherlock and John. If they had a plan then he would play along.

Moran hadn’t talked to Greg even once, hadn’t asked him a single thing. Lestrade could see that Moran was mad as a hatter, insane and so focused on his goal that he had no time to waste on speaking to a mere Omega. Greg had overheard some of the man’s muttered comments, his opinion of Omegas was very poor but then, he was one of the rare Alphas who preferred another Alpha as their partner. He had no use for the other sub-genders and clearly felt they were all a waste of time. Taking Greg had been no more than a strike against Mycroft, just like taking Sherlock had been a ploy to deliberately antagonize John. Greg didn’t know when he’d have the time to tell Sherlock that Moran was planning on selling them both to a breeding camp.

After glancing over to the Omegas, Moran left the room, slowly and carefully. After a moment there was a series of gunshots, then silence.

Sherlock and Greg froze, their eyes fixed on the closed door. There was a metallic scrabbling sound and it pushed open slowly. A drag of foot could be heard and John was there. He wobbled a bit, his hand pressed to his side, a ring of keys in his hand, “Hi love. Sorry I took so long.” John took a few staggering steps forward and pushed the keys through the bars, “Hands are cold. Sorry.”

Sherlock snatched up the keys and hurried to unlock the door even as John began to sink to his knees. Throwing the ring at Greg Sherlock rushed to his mate. John’s ribs were bleeding. He’d been shot.

"Don't you dare die on me. Don't you dare!" Sherlock said without even realizing he was saying it aloud. Sherlock took off his scarf and pressed it to the wound.

“It’s just a scratch.” said John but he sounded weary. 

Greg was out of his cell and on his mobile. He still had friends in the Yard and called them to the address Sherlock rattled off, “We need an ambulance too. Possible one other person down, status unknown, hurry.”

“Dead.” said John. “Shot him in the head. Head. Dead. He’s dead.” John’s eyes were closing. He was going into shock.


	37. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg has been rescued but John was injured.

Greg dropped to his knees on the other side of John. "Help me get his jacket off. Now, help him lie down on his right side. That's it. Pull his knees up a bit so he doesn't roll onto his face. Roll up his jacket and put it under his head." Greg lifted John's shirt. "It's gone right through. Might have nicked his lung though." Greg used Sherlock's scarf to stem the bleeding until the ambulance got there. 

"The whole place is booby trapped. They won't be able to get in," Sherlock commented. 

"Did John come alone?" Greg asked. 

"No, Mycroft's driver..."

"Is here. I came in when I heard the shots. I've cleared the traps from the entrance to here and opened the doors so the ambulance can drive in," the driver said.

Sherlock nodded and concentrated on John, wishing he’d spent a little more time learning about basic field medical procedures. Greg knew enough though and before long Sherlock heard the welcome wail of sirens. A small team of paramedics arrived and with merciful efficiency they had John on a stretcher, racing to the hospital while Sherlock clung to his hand. Lestrade and the driver followed hard on their heels, the other omega anxious to see his mate.

Beta nurses led Sherlock and Greg right to their Alphas. John was sent to surgery but Mycroft was simply waiting for them. He looked alright if a bit embarrassed yet concerned. He caught Greg in an openly affectionate embrace, kissing his omega hard and checking him over quickly, “You are unharmed?” Mycroft asked anxiously.

“Yeah, you?” Greg was just as concerned for his mate but Mycroft looked fine. 

“I experienced a panic attack. Once I was calmed down all the symptoms simply went away. I only just managed to check my messages. Thank you Sherlock for telling me you were coming here.” Sherlock nodded, not interested in speaking with his father right then. He was worried about John.

"I told my people to work with your plan. I hope I did the right thing," Mycroft said worrying over John's injuries. 

"Please, Mycroft. Don't worry yourself so much. I think it was one of Moran's booby traps that got John. It's not too bad. He should be fine. The fact that he managed to get to us with that injury tells me that it is unlikely that it hit any vital organs," Lestrade said. 

"And you got your medical degree where?" Mycroft asked, trying to not seem unkind. 

"Experience. The Force doesn't let Omegas go in on assault teams but I was at enough busts gone bad to know what I was looking at. They also give Omegas extra training so we can attend Alphas who go head on with homicidal maniacs with guns."

Mycroft couldn't help but smile at Greg. "You shouldn't be on your feet."

"Relax. My physiotherapist says you are pampering me too much. I need more exercise, even if it hurts," Greg told him.

Mycroft couldn't help the pride he felt at his mate’s declaration. Gregory was a marvel, a treasure. He was obviously experiencing a lot of discomfort but shrugged it off as unimportant. Most of the high-class Omegas that Mycroft had known in the past had crumpled at the first sign of anything remotely distressing but look at Greg. The man was standing tall and focusing on helping others and not himself. Mycroft didn’t censor himself, “I love you Gregory. You are incredible.”

Greg blushed. 

"Oh, get a room," Sherlock groaned.

“Cease your juvenile antics Sherlock. Gregory has been through a great deal recently and the very least I can do is appreciate him, much the way John appreciates you!” scolded the older man.

Sherlock fell silent and turned his back, “John will be fine.” he said almost inanely.

Mycroft winced, he’d almost forgotten the Alpha was in surgery, “Of course John will be fine. He will be out of surgery in no time and recuperating at home before you know it.”

Sherlock didn't hear the last words as he slipped to the floor in a stress induced seizure. "SHERLOCK! HELP! NURSE! WE NEED A DOCTOR!" Mycroft screamed.

Sherlock was surrounded by professionals, removed from the waiting room and taken for treatement. Mycroft and Greg were asked to remain in the waiting room, “But he’s my son!” exclaimed Mycroft.

“You are not his Alpha according to our records Mr. Holmes. Only a Doctor John Watson will be permitted to access the Omega.” reported a nurse, clearly not caring about anything more than regulations.

“Alpha John is in surgery, I must see to my son!” insisted Mycroft but the nurse was unmoved.

“Omega Sherlock is being cared for, we will bring you information soon. If Alpha John wishes you to have access to his Omega he will need to submit a form listing names of approved people when he is recovered from his current injuries.” Just like that both men were relegated to simply waiting. All of Mycroft’s clout was useless against hospital bureaucracy. 

It was almost two hours before Mike came to them in the waiting room. He looked like he had been dragged out of bed, which he probably was. "Sherlock is doing fine, but I had to sedate him to keep him in bed. He won't be awake until morning. I arranged for them to share a room when they release John from ICU. I talked to the surgeon. The bullet went straight through, caused some soft tissue damage and John will have two more scars. He'll be in hospital for three days. Give him two months recovery and he can return to his clinic. He should be fully recovered by the time Sherlock goes into heat again. Now, I am going home. I suggest you two do the same. You can visit in the morning."

Mycroft took Greg’s arm and led him from the hospital. Both men felt worn out and weary. After a small snack and two quick showers they tumbled into Mycroft’s bed. “I know we’re not up for anything right now.” said Greg who was still moving carefully. Mycroft nodded silently and just took his mate in his arms, grateful that he still had him with him.

"You are safe and here with me, my love. That is all that matters right now," Mycroft told him. "Good night."

Mycroft felt better the longer he held Gregory. It soothed his frazzled soul to know his mate was safe and right in front of him. It took Gregory a long time to finally fall asleep but Mycroft couldn’t. He just lay there, running his fingers lightly over his lover, just tenderly touching him to reassure himself.

Mycroft had the feeling that he was fully accepted by this Omega when Greg snuggled into him in his sleep and threw an arm over Mycroft's chest.

Mycroft managed to sleep in fits and starts, he still felt rejuvenated when Greg finally woke the next morning. Greg gave Mycroft an eager kiss but both men got right out of bed. Mycroft indulged himself a bit and shared a shower with his mate, but soon enough they were dressed, breakfasted and heading back to the hospital. Mycroft needed to see how his family was doing.

Sherlock was sitting in the chair beside John, with a portable drip stand so he could move around. John was giving him a lecture on not missing meals, going into some detail about what it would do to his brain. Sherlock was gazing at his Alpha like a love sick teenager with a slight smile on his face. He was probably not hearing a word that John said.

John for his part couldn’t help lecturing Sherlock. He’d been so worried when the nurses told him Sherlock had experienced a seizure right in the waiting room. Sherlock dismissed the event as inconsequential, and was only concerned about John’s injury. “I promise.” said Sherlock at intervals and finally John sighed and said, “You’re not even listening.”

“No, but you’ll remind me of whatever it is when it becomes relevant.” said Sherlock almost dreamily and Greg laughed, accidentally announcing their presence.

They both looked up. "I do believe that being a mother is improving your personality," Greg said to Sherlock. 

"Nonsense. I am exactly the same," Sherlock replied. 

"Greg! Good to see you on your feet. Mycroft, drag that chair over for him," John said.

Mycroft obeyed without hesitation, wanting to dote on his mate and eagerly listening to his Alpha. He settled Greg down and stood behind the chair, his hand proprietarily on the silver-haired man’s shoulder, “What have the doctors told you John?”

"That I will get a bed to myself for another 2 nights and then it's back to midnight feeds," John said. They are writing me up a schedule of physio," he made a face at that. "I am depending on you, Mycroft to get the tapes of anything interesting the babies get up to for the next couple of days."

Mycroft smiled, he was more than willing to hover over his grandchildren, “I’ll have my team assemble the most entertaining bits of their security feed.” he promised.

"So you will be out of hospital for Sunday afternoon?" Greg asked. 

"How do you know about that?" Mycroft asked. "That was supposed to be a surprise."

"You never tell a 4 year old a secret, Mycroft," Greg told him.

“Well my dearest, since the proverbial cat is out of the bag…John, Sherlock, would you care to come for dinner with my family on Sunday?” Mycroft felt a surge of pride as he made the offer. His family. His Gregory and their children. Perhaps he was being a little presumptuous regarding the children but he adored his mate so much and was so very grateful for the chance to dote on him further.

"Dinner," Sherlock said impressed. "Not just afternoon tea?" He almost answered but then looked at John who frowned. Was Sherlock actually acting like an Omega and asking his Alpha if it was alright to go to dinner with his brother? 

"We would be honoured," John replied.

Sherlock nodded and smiled over at his father, “John and I would be pleased to attend,” he said, “Thank you.”

Mycroft and John were both a bit startled but Sherlock just went back to gazing at John as if he were the only person in the universe.

A nurse walked into the room. "Are you here to pick up Omega Watson?" she asked Mycroft. "I just have to remove the drip and you will have to sign to say that you will make sure he gets safely home."

John glared at the nurse, “His name is Sherlock Holmes, not Omega Watson. Correct the files, right now.” John wasn’t going to subjugate his mate that way. Yes Sherlock was an Omega but that didn’t make him John’s possession. “He can make his own way safely home if he chose.” Sherlock wouldn’t leave John’s side if given a choice but they had children to check on. 

Mycroft took the forms from the nurse and handed them to John. “Doctor Watson.” he offered respectfully as he held the clipboard out.

"Actually, if you wouldn't mind, Mycroft, I could do with a lift home. This is the longest I have ever been away from the children," Sherlock said. 

"Of course. We will be leaving in a few minutes. We just came to see how John was doing. We'll get you out of his hair so he can rest," Mycroft replied, who then turned to Greg. 

No wedding runs as smoothly as everyone would want. With the Holmes family, they are disasters waiting to happen and in hindsight were probably best avoided. The wedding of Mycroft Holmes and Gregory Lestrade was no exception.

John and Sherlock’s visit with Gregory’s children had gone very well, the little ones interested in their babies, and the older one’s full of sage advice on parenting, most of which had John in stitches. Greg was so proud of his brood, all of them called him Dad even though he wasn’t. Sherlock laughed when they called Mycroft “Mr. Myc” but the laughter died when they started calling him “Mr. Sherly”. Now that Sherlock’s father was getting married Sherlock had relaxed some of his more hostile ways and was a pleasantly surprising and helpful person to have on board The Wedding Of The Decade team.

Mycroft would have preferred a quick signing at the registry office and dinner with the family but Greg was surprisingly religious and Mycroft's 'work mates' insisted on being at his wedding. The guest list was a nightmare. The church was not going to be divided by bride and groom but by politics. There was a high probability that some of the guests would break into loud political debate in the middle of the wedding. Mycroft decided that there would be a security guard at every pew.

“Jesus Christ Mycroft! Can’t you impose the same kinds of rules you have at your club? They’re not allowed to argue there, right?” Greg was getting annoyed and agitated. He was nervous about the guest list, most of the people Mycroft knew were high-ranking and powerful. Greg’s friends were loyal but all of them were as rumpled and low-budget as he was.

“Do you mean for our guests to be seated in the strictest of silence?” teased Mycroft.

“If you can arrange it,” teased Greg right back, “Fine, they’ll probably fight. If they do though I’m not stopping the Yarders from arresting anyone they feel needs it.”

"Will she be there?" Sherlock asked. 

"She?" Greg asked with a tinge of jealousy. 

"No She will not. But we will send her an invitation all the same. I can hardly insult my employer," Mycroft replied. 

"SHE?" Greg asked again.

"Yes, exactly."

“Who is SHE Mycroft?” Greg wasn’t smiling but Sherlock was.

“Her Majesty the Queen, Mycroft’s employer.” said the Omega with a smirk, “She’s also our distant cousin.”

"Extremely distant. We are more closely related to the King of France," Mycroft said. 

"France doesn't have a King," John pointed out. 

"Exactly," Mycroft replied. 

"We didn't invite her to our wedding," John said. 

"Yes, we did," Sherlock replied seriously. 

"Security advised against her attending," Mycroft told the surprised Alpha.

“Oh god.” John was stunned at the mere concept of being related to actual royals.

Mycroft just shook his head, “If you looked into it John all families of a certain age and standing share familial ties. It’s good business to make sure your potential enemies are also family.”

"That didn't stop World War 1," Sherlock commented. 

"All families have their squabbles," Mycroft replied.

“Yes, that would have been World War II.” retorted Sherlock in irritation. 

Mycroft then pointed out, “Since our family has been serving in Government we’ve managed to not have a third.” Sherlock simply rolled his eyes.

William gave a bit of a cry and Sherlock got to his feet immediately. "Sherlock if you pick him up everytime he cries he will cry just to be picked up," Mycroft told him.

"If someone had shown me a bit of attention every time I cried I might not be a sociopath," Sherlock replied. Sherlock settled back in the chair with his son.

Mycroft was silent. He was the one who had ordered Mrs. Hudson to leave rearing Sherlock for the nanny to take care of. He’d hired a strict and capable woman for the post, but now that he thought back she had not been the warmest of people. Sherlock had gone from being a funny happy baby to being wan and nearly silent until he was almost a teen. Now Mycroft looked at his grandchildren and vowed not to make the same mistakes with this generation, “I was very young when you were born Sherlock and had no knowledge of children. I’m sorry my son.”  
"Let's adopt," Greg said suddenly, surprising everyone, even himself.

“You wish for more children my dear?” Mycroft was entirely willing. He could afford as many children as they could deal with and the five that Gregory had brought to his home had inspired the Alpha to examine his paternal instincts closely.

"Yours, mine and ours," Greg told him, "A child who wouldn't have a chance in life otherwise. A baby."

Mycroft felt so warm inside. Greg was a dream come true, “Anything you want my dearest. We’ll look into the matter together as soon as the wedding is done.”

"Lady Smallwood? Honestly, Myc...father. The scandal," Sherlock interrupted as he looked at the guest list. 

"She is one of my oldest friends in London, Sherlock. Of course she will come," Mycroft replied.

“Stop editing our guest list Sherlock! You went all snakey over who went to your wedding and it didn’t even happen. Leave my wedding alone.” Greg took the guest list away from the now sulking Sherlock.

"Are you certain you wouldn't prefer family only?" John asked them. 

"What he is asking is wouldn't you prefer your wedding to actually happen instead of a disaster?" Sherlock said. 

"Third wedding lucky. We've had our two disasters," Greg replied. 

"Actually I believe the superstition is that bad things happen in threes," Sherlock pointed out. "Just look at that guest list. Someone is sure to take the opportunity to get rid of that many enemies at one time."

“Stop raining on my parade Sherlock! Go sit in the other room if you’re going to be like this. Have a snack. Take a nap. Quit trying to find reasons for Mycroft to not get married!” Greg was getting very upset with Sherlock’s constant negative input.

“Sherlock, maybe we should just go give the babies a bath and let them plan their own wedding.” suggested John with a small smile.

Sherlock nodded towards Mycroft who was cooing at William. "It's not their bathtime."

“Then let’s put them in their stroller and take them for a walk.” said John.

“It’s too bright out.” said Sherlock glancing out the window.

“They have a sunshade on the stroller.” John pointed out.

“It’s too warm in the afternoon.” Sherlock argued, reaching for the guest list again.

John took it away from him with a heavy sigh, “Sherlock, we’re leaving Greg and Mycroft to plan their wedding as they see fit. Pick up the children and let’s go, right now.”

"John, they came to me as their wedding planner," Sherlock said.

"Why don't the two of you take Grace for a walk and we will look after William for a little while?" Mycroft said. 

Sherlock sighed and nodded. He fussed over Grace as Jeremy got the stroller ready.

John came over and kissed his mate tenderly before whispering softly into Sherlock’s ear, “Greg is nervous love, you’re making it worse. We’ll go away and let him relax. You can help more later, alright?”


	38. The Final Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foes have been defeated and families have been joined. It's time for the wedding.

Greg was getting nervous now. Sherlock’s comments about the guest list had finally forced him to consider the names being listed. He recognized most of them, mostly from the Society pages, but a handful were names he’d come across while at work. Clearly his mate had powerful associates from all over and Greg would be standing up to declare himself in front of all of them.

Mycroft was as observant as Sherlock with the added advantage of being able to read emotions. He placed William safely back into his rocker and drew Greg into his arms. "It's alright, love. Most of these people are just for show. If I invite one without inviting several others there will be insulted and there would be repercussions at work. It's just a social nicety that escapes Sherlock. You invite whoever you want. You just be yourself. I love you for who you are."

Greg smiled at Mycroft, very reassured. Mycroft would never lie to him or try to shield him from a truth. He respected Greg enough to speak plainly to him, trusting that Greg could deal with anything he needed to, “Thanks for that. I’ll worry a bit though, if you don’t mind. I’m more worried about doing something embarrassing like forgetting how to talk while we’re exchanging vows. I think I’ve got a bit of stage-fright.”

"Such might be embarrassing for your friends, Gregory, but I assure you most of the people I have invited will not blink twice as an Omega being normal. If on the other hand I forget my lines, I would be reminded of it for the rest of my life. So if anyone should be worried about stage fright it should be me," Mycroft replied. 

"But you aren't?" Greg asked.

"One of the advantages of being an Alpha is that we are biologically prone to being...well, Alphas. I might be worried but I cannot show it to my social superiors."

“Are you sure it’s a good idea putting a security guard at every pew? Won’t that look odd?” fretted Greg though he’d already agreed it was a necessary adaption to the ceremony. The vows themselves were giving him fits too; all of the traditional vows were mostly for the Omega to make while Mycroft merely had to promise to keep Greg and nothing else. Mycroft was handsome and desired for his wealth and influence. There would be nothing stopping him from getting an additional spouse if he so chose.

Mycroft knew that they were bonding. He could almost hear Greg's thoughts. He seemed to know what Greg was worrying over. "So many people think that bonding is only a physical chemical reaction, and exchange of chemicals when an Alpha bites an Omega. It is so much more, Greg. Can you feel it? The bond forming between us?"

Greg was surprised at Mycroft’s comment. He’d thought it was just him but he nodded, “I wasn’t sure. It’s like I can feel you sometimes, even hear your thoughts once in a while. Not words exactly, but sometimes I can understand how you’re feeling about something.”

Their eyes met. "I have just discovered a disadvantage to having children. I want to take you home, but the children are home." Mycroft lent in and brushed his lips over Greg's. "You scent is..."

“John and Sherlock owe us a favor. Send the kids there. Your car fits them all.” suggested Greg with a grin.

"Or we can start training them to stay in their own flat when we want to be alone," Mycroft said. "Our bedroom door does lock."

“You didn’t hire two nannies for nothing,” reminded Greg with a cheeky wink. In a flash Mycroft was sending off a text asking the nannies to bring the children out to the parks for some exercise, “I’m locking the door anyway.”

"Gregory," Mycroft said when they were safely locked in their bedroom and the children had been taken out for the afternoon. 

Greg turned to Mycroft. "What is it, Love?" 

"I know that you had affairs when you were married."

"I won't cheat on you, Mycroft," Greg said sincerely.

"No. no. That's not what I am talking about. But just so you know," Mycroft smiled with an almost threatening expression. "If you do, whoever it is will find themselves in the worst place they could imagine under the worse circumstances they could imagine."

Greg actually grinned at the threat.

"I was just wondering if you have had sex with a man?"

"I don't have any diseases, Mycroft," Greg frowned. "But to answer your question, no. You are the only man I have ever been attracted to."

"I am going about this the wrong way. I do apologize. I have never been in love before. I don't want you to be restricted by the usual expectations of an Omega. Tell me if I do something you don't like; feel free to explore and do things you want. I will tell you if I don't like something. Sex is the most fun we can have together. Our relationship will not work if you are hiding your dislikes from me."

"As if I could hide anything from you," Greg smiled.

“I hope you are never in a position where you feel that you must try.” said Mycroft with a smile, “I am very possessive my dearest Gregory, every inch an Alpha and you are mine in all the ways that can be known. I promise to always desire your happiness, and to try to make every single day of our new lives together satisfying for you. I have no plans to ever wed another, I cannot imagine there is a single other person more worthy than you. I hope you feel the same about me.”

Greg smiled and stepped closer to Mycroft. He brushed his lips over his. "I do. Now shut up and come to bed."

After that bit of peace time flew by and suddenly the day had arrived. Greg was attended by Sherlock, much to his regret, while John was off helping Mycroft. While John made himself most useful by getting out of the way and allowing the professional dresser take charge. Sherlock was butting in and trying to force the dresser to change this and that until Greg was a nervous wreck, “LET HIM TIE THE TIE DAMMIT!”

“He’s not doing it correctly.” sighed Sherlock who deftly undid the knot and redid it infinitesimally different and smoothed it down, “I won’t have you shaming me in front of the entire family. This wedding had better go smoother than mine did which it should since John and I took care of the security. The last people we trusted with it were complete pants at it.”

"Is it too late to elope?" the dresser asked, trying to relieve Greg's nervousness.

The church was exactly how Greg asked for, except for the fact that there were over 1000 people at their wedding. He was so nervous that he read his vows off cue cards. But having Mycroft standing right there with him made it easier. His children sat with their nannies in the front row along with Greg's parents. 

"Mycroft is nervous," Sherlock whispered to John as they sat in the front row on the other side of the aisle. John shushed him.

“He wants Greg to be happy and he’s worried he’s going to make a mess of things, leave him be. All new husbands feel that way.” said John who was watching Mycroft speak his vows. The tall man wasn’t using cue cards like Greg was but his voice wasn’t steady the way it normally was either, and he was clutching Greg’s hands tightly as if to calm himself. John thought it was rather sweet. Sherlock was tapping his foot impatiently.

John put his hand on Sherlock's leg and shook his head. Sherlock stopped. Sherlock could be infinitely patient when he was interested but evidently his father's wedding was not interesting enough. It didn't help that Grace and William were not inside the church but with Jeremy, being guarded by Hamish and William Scott. William Scott was almost as good a detective as Sherlock but he was also an Omega and was totally clucky over Sherlock's babies. It was like having a second nanny rather than a second security guard.

Mycroft and Greg had asked for the simplest service available so after the vows were exchanged Sherlock and John stood with everyone else to witness Greg being formally introduced, “May I present Gregory Lestrade and his husband, Mycroft Holmes.” There were some surprised gasps as Mycroft smiled down at his new husband. Normally Omegas were simply called by their husband’s last name. For Greg to be allowed to keep his was a very public shift from what many people found traditional. Sherlock was grudgingly impressed, “He’s only doing it because you haven’t changed my name yet.”

“I’m not changing your name at all. You are Sherlock Holmes, that’s who I bonded with.” said John. Their children would have blended names but John wanted everyone to know that Sherlock was his own man and that John was secure enough to be happy with that. They were setting new standards for a world they planned on changing very much. Greg and Mycroft would be a part of that change and hopefully things would be better for all Omega everywhere.

Mycroft and Greg kissed rather passionately but were interrupted by Greg's four year old who escaped the nanny and pushed his way between Greg and Mycroft. Mycroft bent and picked him up. They walked down the aisle as a family. The other children following behind them with the nannies in the rear. Margaret, the eldest was holding Edward's hand and dragging him along to stop him from running riot through the church. Still he managed to destroy half the decorations on the ends of the pews.

Sherlock and John stood, and with Greg’s parents as well as Sherlock’s grandparents they followed the newlyweds out to the courtyard while politely acknowledging the gentle applause of all the witnesses. Greg and Mycroft already seemed lost in each other’s eyes. As soon as their reception was done they were going away for a private honeymoon while the children were sent away on a more family appropriate vacation with their grandparents.

The reception did not go as planned from the start. William and Grace were crying for their bottles. Sherlock and John insisted on feeding them rather than letting Jeremy take them out of the reception hall. Edward decided to join his younger brother in crawling under the tables from one end of the long table to the other. Margaret was chasing after them but that just caused more chaos because she was 10 and much larger than her two younger brothers.

The dignified gathering was then treated to a seven throated chorus of absolute mayhem as William and Grace refused to be comforted, inspiring all of Greg’s children to run amok, all shouting at the tops of their voices as they tore around. Greg tried to call them back but Mycroft laid a long-fingered hand on his arm, “Watch.” said the Alpha with a smile.

The children were diabolically good at making a mess. Each table in the hall was somehow jostled, nudged or outright knocked as the Lestrade brood chased each other happily around. Sherlock was no help, shouting instructions to Margaret to go left or right and generally encouraging as much chaos as possible while he tried to burp his son.

But when 8 year Emma discovered the first table to be served the entre she stole a prawn right out of a lady's dish. The woman grabbed the girl's wrist and forced her to drop the prawn. "How dare you, you impudent brat!" she shouted at the child.

The hand on Greg’s arm fell away and Mycroft did nothing to stop his husband from stalking right over to the table to pick up his daughter, “Talk to my kid like that one more time lady and I swear I will rain eternal hell on you! I’ve got friends in low places. What’s wrong with you anyway, shouting at a kiddie? There’s plenty of food.”

A large man who had been sitting beside the very offended woman and tried to loom over Greg, “SIT DOWN OMEGA!” he ordered, his Alpha voice ringing out his demand firmly.

“Sit yourself down you jackass. This is my wedding. I’ll have you know that stupid voice doesn’t work on me thanks to a lovely injury I got. Instead of making a show of how badly raised you were why don’t you sit next to the other loud one, finish your free plate of food, drink some of the free expensive booze we’re giving you and act your age! She was!” Greg’s daughter had teared up and now clung to her father with huge eyes. All the other Omega in the room were glaring at the man and woman, clearly brother and sister, both Alphas. There were few things Omega would get aggressive for, but children were certainly one of them.

"Mycroft, control your Omega!" The lady called out.

"I don't have an Omega," Mycroft replied. "I have a husband."

The man turned to John, “Captain Watson, your family needs to be controlled!” the Alpha was red-faced and angry.

“I don’t see it that way.” replied John, speaking almost softly as he reached out for his mate’s hand. “Mycroft and Greg are married, they’re equal partners in this union. Mycroft doesn’t own Greg any more than I own Sherlock.”

“Revolting!” gasped the woman. “You have no right….”

Sherlock stood up and glowered at her, his son still in his arms. William had fallen asleep, a small smile on his tiny face, “How is it revolting to treat your husband like he’s a human being just like you are? Is that how you see Omega? Animals? Chattel? We are not. The old laws were fair but the laws we grew up with have been mangled and twisted by people like you to ensure Omega have no chance in the world except to hope someone finds them acceptable enough to breed until we die.”

John stood beside his mate, “We’re opening a school for all Omega who can attend, a proper school where they’ll learn useful skills and not be dependent on people like you! How many of you keep un-bonded Omega? How many of you actually married the mothers of your children? How many of you practice the slavery of a whole portion of our population and do you even know why you do it? My mate will never live like that. My children will never live like that.”

"Good God! Mycroft, what sort of mate did you find for your brother?"

"My son. Sherlock is my son. And John Watson is a perfect 'mate' for my son. Now sit down and stop disrupting my wedding. And if you ever lay hands on my daughter or any of my children again, just remember who knows all your secrets," Mycroft replied. 

A man seated closer to the head table and therefore in a higher social position that the complaining lady, stood. "If you are looking for investors in your school, I would like my husbands and my Omega children to attend. I hope it would take adults as well as children."

“We will take any Omega that care to attend. Once we have it running we will also be opening smaller day schools in surrounding communities. Our hope is to change the situation many Omega find themselves in and make all our lives better. Alphas who agree to retrain their adult Omega, and who find it within themselves to allow their young Omega to be educated will also become eligible for a series of tax breaks, depending on their situations.” Mycroft looked seriously at the crowd in front of him. “This is a new era. I will not allow my husband to endure the current status that being born an Omega has granted him. Gregory is no different than any other person. He’s intelligent, capable, and more than proven himself independent and a worthy partner. Look to your Omega, see what you’ve denied yourselves by wearing blinders.”

There was general chaos in the room now with some Alphas grumbling while others conferred with their Omegas. "All right, all right. I will ask," one Alpha said to his Omega. "Mycroft, Alex would like to know if Sherlock will be teaching?"

"Yes, I will," Sherlock replied. "I will be teaching at the London school. Advance Chemistry and The Science of Deduction."

Well now there was utter silence as the Alphas in the room were stunned into speechlessness and excited hope had muted the Omega. John stood, “There is no tuition, no fees of any kind. We’ll fund the school in other ways, all investors are welcome but let it be known, you will have no say in the curriculum. That is for us to decide.” The chatter resumed, more than one Alpha being barraged by more and more questions from their Omega. Only a handful looked angry at the potential shift in their society. In fact, many of the Alpha were very solicitous of their Omega or Omegas, if they had more than one and many did.

While most were sitting with a few standing here and there the most noticeable man was an Alpha who had dropped to one knee beside his Omega mate. "Isaac, I would be honoured if you would accept me as your husband."

Sherlock and John smiled and watched along with Greg and Mycroft as more than one Alpha made the same offer to their Omega. Blushes were everywhere and many happy faces. “Others will wait for a more private moment John, look.” there was a lot of love evident on many Alpha faces as they talked with their Omega in ways they probably didn’t do anywhere but in private. It seemed that John wasn’t alone in his attitudes. All the others had needed was a push in the right direction. It wouldn’t be fast, nor would it be easy but it seemed that the bond between John and Sherlock had triggered a change that would spread and ripple until it touched everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank Gwerinos for asking me to write this fic along with her. It was a very great honor and I enjoyed the process so much. This story grew so much and I'm sorry it's over but the tale has been told. I hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I did.


End file.
